Antithesis of Light
by Mike Taurguss
Summary: ROWP#2 A reincarnated Xena must learn how to work with her half sister, Hope in a battle against another of Dahok's children.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The light of the western sunset glittered and bounced off the steel of the weapons as they rested in the display stand before her eyes. She moved slowly back down the long table a third time, her green eyes blinking as the light flashed off the silvered steel. Her fingers absently traced the edge of the table until she came, once again to the two matching weapons that had first caught her eye.

Behind the table, in the roughly built open area beyond, rested various articles of clothing and armor of varying designs and styles.

"Any time today, sis," A faintly irritated voice suggested from off to one side.

Brushing several stray locks of blonde hair out of her eyes, she turned and looked back at her sister, one eyebrow rising in what could only be described as irritation.

"How long did you spend in Draco's armory, Xena?" Hope asked. She pointed at her sister, indicating the clothing she was wearing.

Xena crossed her arms over her chest and let out a soft sigh.

"Well?" Hope pressed.

Xena was dressed in a functional set of what could be considered leather armor. Bustier, bracers, greaves, short tabard and fine boots, all oiled and well tended, colored a rich, almost chocolate brown trimmed in shimmering bronze. On a small catch at her hip hung her chakram, and at her back was a long, sturdy two handed sword.

Her jet black hair was pulled back neatly, held by a two piece leather and wood barrette, and her blue eyes shone keen and bright.

"Not this long," She countered. "Come on. It's getting dark for crying out loud."

Hope sighed and looked down at her own clothing. Her simple green halter and dark brown skirt were beginning to show their age. Even her sturdy brown hide boots were looking a little worn out.

Her self critical gaze moved to the object in her hand, the long solid oak quarterstaff. Yes, the clothing and weapon served a purpose, and yes, they were still in half way decent shape, but the idea of walking around looking like her mother's twin had lost it's appeal and it's usefulness a long time ago.

To be honest, she felt wrong in these clothes. It wasn't her – what – style? Did she even have a style?

Ever since Xena's father, David had stripped away her contact with the evil Dahok, her mind had been freed to grow and learn, and her own sense of self had begun to emerge.

_Her memory flashed back to that fateful day, and in a flash, she saw him on his knees before her, her weapon puncturing his chest, while his own narrow sword protruded from her side. His eyes had been as fierce as his smile._

"_Gotcha!" he had growled. Then the world flashed white before her eyes._

Hope jumped slightly as the flash abruptly brought her back from memory to the present. Then her gaze settled once more on the two weapons at the end of the table. They were short, a little more than two feet long, single edged and curved like the oriental blades of Japa. They were shorter versions of that sword. The blades were clean, polished like silver mirrors ending at a small, ornately wrought circular guard. The handles were carved ivory, wrapped with sturdy leather straps. With the pommels cut into the likeness of a roaring lion. Each one came with a beautifully made wooden scabbard and a two strap harness that allowed the owner to wear them at their back or drop them to the waist in belt fashion.

Even as she felt the desire to purchase the weapons, the uncomfortable familiarity of them made her hesitant.

The vendor, a middle aged, wiry thin man who seemed to be made completely of vertical lines, interlaced his fingers patiently and twiddled his thumbs. His quick dark eyes were filled with watchful light. He offered an encouraging smile. His cheeks widened, to make room for the smile.

"If I may, miss," he offered in a surprisingly sincere voice. "I know when an object has sold itself to one of my customers, and these weapons have sold themselves to you. I can see it in your eyes when you look at them.

"I'm surprised you aren't suggesting something more expensive," Xena quipped.

The vendor looked at her with an expression of insult as well as understanding.

"I have more expensive weapons here, to be certain," he countered sharply. "That isn't the way I run my business! What good is selling an expensive weapon to a customer if it won't serve them well? A trade like mine is based on repeat business, young lady. I can't have return customer if the weapons they buy end up getting them killed."

He refocused his attention to Hope.

"Now, you must understand," he said, lifting one of the weapons and offering the hilt to her. "These are crafted from steel in the traditional style of the east, using their forging methods, which makes the metal unusually pure and durable."

Hope took the hilt, feeling the leather handle fit neatly into her palm.

"Just as these are going to give you the flexibility and durability you require," the vendor went on. "They are going to need special care as well."

"Oh?" Hope inquired.

"These will need to be kept well oiled at all times to guarantee they last." He explained. "And give them a working edge, not a razor one or they will begin to nick or notch on you."

"You seem to know a lot about weapons," Xena said, stepping back up to the table.

The vendor nodded and offered another polite smile. "I make it a point to learn about those things that I sell, miss. It makes it easier to ensure that I sell only the best."

"So, are you a blacksmith, sir?" Hope asked.

"No miss," he replied. He stood back up and gestured within his shop. "Armorer of sorts. More a leather worker than armorer actually, but my stuff is better than most in these parts, and no one will sell to you at a fairer price, that I can promise." He finished his statement with an emphatic nod of his head.

Xena stepped up and took one of the weapons, looking at the workmanship critically. "I'll bet," she muttered.

Her keen eye noted that this weapon was indeed, exceptionally well crafted. A second inspection of its mate was the same. Keen, straight, well tended, and extremely well balanced in her hand.

"What do you think, Xena?" Hope asked.

Xena cleared her throat and looked up at the knowing expression on the shop keeper's face. A small proud smile began to appear on his wizened features.

"Yes miss," he asked. "What are you're impressions?"

"How much?" Xena asked, setting the weapons back upon the table.

"For the set?" He mused, sliding them back into their scabbards. "With the belt. Oh, I would say one hundred would be fair."

"Sixty," Xena fired back, and the bartering had begun.

The shop keeper smiled knowingly. "You know the rules of engagement in many arenas, I expect." He sighed. "Very well, very well. I know that you are not overly wealthy, and you know that I wish to make a profit over the price I paid for these. Shall we say eighty dinars and that would be fair all the way around?"

"If you make it seventy-five," Xena smiled. "You'll get a fair price for them, and my sister here will get what she wants."

The shop keeper smiled more broadly and a soft chuckle escaped his lips. He shook his head appreciatively. "Very well ladies. Done and done."

Xena smiled and began counting out the money as the shop keeper handed Hope the weapons and belt, wrapped in a simple bundle.

"May these serve you well, my dear," he offered with a smile. Then he turned to receive the money from Xena, his expert eyes taking in her gear and clothing.

"If I may point out, miss," he said candidly as he received the coins. "Some of the fastening on your armor could use some repair. For an additional fifteen dinars, I could easily,"

"Ten," Xena smiled before he had even finished.

"Ten then," he smiled back. "I can repair the worn portions of these components. It would only take a matter of a couple hours or so?"

He looked back at Hope and his smile softened a bit. "And I may also have a few things that you might be able to use." He cleared his throat and said delicately. "Forgive me, but your garments have the appearance of having traveled long, if you take my meaning."

"Oh?" Hope asked, attempting to mimic Xena's suspicious gaze of a moment ago.

"I mean no offense," the shop keeper added quickly. He looked down at her boots. "Those would only need a little repair. The rest?" He finished with a neutral sound and a shrug. "I am not a tailor you see."

"Uh huh," Hope nodded.

Xena considered for a moment and nodded. "We'll be back in the morning with my armor and we'll see about the rest."

"Very well," the shopkeeper nodded and smiled. "Good evening ladies."

They found a local inn that wasn't too expensive. The room was small, but not cramped, and the linens on the bed looked considerably cleaner than they had expected.

As she had over the past few days since they left the ruins of Poditea, Xena began unpacking her gear, laying it out within easy reach of where she would rest.

Hope watched her half sister's usual evening ritual with mild curiosity. How could a person do the same exact thing every night, placing everything in a precisely arranged order in anticipation of the coming day?

An idea struck her and she set her traveling bag next to the bed and took her two weapons, fastening the belt about her waist. She turned and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Xena asked.

"I want to try something," Hope replied. "Be back in a little bit."

She stepped through the door before Xena could protest.

"Don't go far!" Xena called after her.

She didn't go far at all. As Xena finished getting ready for bed, she saw Hope step out into the courtyard of the inn.

Her curiosity piqued, she stepped to the window and watched.

There was an air of expectation around her half sister.

Half sister – now that was probably the biggest irony in her entire life. Lives would be closer to the mark.

She watched the courtyard and felt her memory drift back to a different time, when she traveled with another young woman. Years of adventure, trial, and tribulation had forged a friendship between her and Gabrielle that was unbreakable, even by death.

When she had finally met her end on the island country of Japa, her best friend had continued, found love in the form of a man from the future, and had a family. She was her best friends first born child, and she had enjoyed growing up with her best friend as her mother. She had also loved having a father figure, something that she had missed desperately in her previous life.

Her father had been a remarkable man. He had conquered time, traveling back from a distant future to win her mother. He had been a powerful priest, or shaman. His term had been witch. It was because of his powerful magical abilities that they had survived many adventures growing up.

Somehow, trouble continued to follow the two of them through their various lives, engulfing all around them when it reared its head. Her father had accepted this and at time, even embraced it.

It was Gabrielle's first child, the evil Hope, High Priestess of Dahok, that had ended her family.

She had returned again with a small army of her priests and razed her village of Poditea to the ground.

David had sacrificed himself to strip Hope of her contact with the deity, leaving Hope alone in the world for the first time in her existence.

Her abilities removed, her contact gone, Hope was like a child in many ways, naïve and inexperienced. Xena's father had countered this by imbuing her with a portion of his own magical power, both as a foundation and to ensure that Dahok never regained his evil hold on her.

They had taken Hope away to prison, ostensibly for execution, but her father, David had intervened again, from beyond the grave, arranging for Hope to find her way back to Gabrielle and Xena and begin the long process of reconciliation shortly before Gabrielle finally succumbed to old age and died.

Since leaving their family tomb in the hills outside Poditea, Xena and Hope had begun to form a relationship, though it was not warm like it would be between most siblings.

Hope was hunted by both the former victims of Dahok's order and a mysterious offshoot of the religion that was continuing the reign of terror in Dahok's name.

Besides, Xena was coolly receptive to Hope's apparent reformation. She wasn't truly convinced, yet, if Hope's newfound morality was sincere. The duplicitous young woman had pulled stunts like this before.

Granted, she had never prolonged any masquerade for an extended period of time, and the tears she had shed, the anger she had expressed when Gabrielle had passed away had been as sincere as her own.

Hope stood in the courtyard below and drew her weapons, holding them comfortably in her hands.

She seemed to be waiting for something, her eyes almost closed as she stood, perfectly still, like a pale statue illuminated by the waxing moon.

"What in the world are you doing?" Xena called down to her in an annoyed tone.

Hope started and then turned, glaring up at Xena.

The sudden fire that Xena saw in that gaze actually made her stand up in surprise.

Then, just as quickly, it was gone and she resumed her position and closed her eyes completely, taking several deep breaths to calm herself.

"What the mind believes," she whispered to herself. "The body achieves."

It had been a portion of the otherworldly lessons that she had received from her ghostly stepfather. David had taken hope away from the nightmares that plagued her and given her instruction on the arts of combat, so that she might better protect herself.

The lessons had taken place in numerous fantastical dreamscapes that had been pulled from David's own memories. Within those faux worlds, she had learned the skills that she would need to survive. She had also discovered that the power used to drive away the connection between her and Dahok had consisted of the power that had fed David's own substantial magical abilities. Though she had not as yet learned how to bring it all to the fore, she had managed to manifest some of what she had learned through meditation and focus.

"_Your mind will translate the knowledge and skill to your muscles as you meditate," David had said to her. "When your mind is quiet and at peace, the skills will arrange themselves accordingly. Then it will simply be a matter of training your muscles to perform the action you understand."_

"_And how does that happen?" she had asked._

"_Three ways," David had smiled that interminable smile. "Practice, practice, and more practice. You must awaken the skill before you can hone it. Then, you'll be ready."_

"_And the magic?" she had pressed._

"_That'll come too," He had acknowledged. "At first, when you least expect it, then as you tend to need it, and finally whenever and however you want it."_

"_Above all," he raised a finger in a cautioning gesture. "Keep it simple at first and let it happen at its own pace. If you rush it, you'll never master it."_

The memory felt like a warm blanket. Then her mind began sending the signals to her limbs and she felt her body move.

Xena's eyebrows rose as Hope raised one, and then the other weapon in simple, sideways slashing motions and then back and forth, up and down, her wrists turning neatly to send the sharp edge of the weapons in the direction of the cut.

Her eyes remained closed, her face was unusually calm and composed, almost neutral as if she were sleep-walking.

Then her feet began to move, stepping slowly forward or back or side to side, pivoting at the waist or turning on the balls of her feet and focusing the swinging weapons in a new direction.

Xena felt a hot flash of jealousy course through her as she realized what her step sister was doing. There had only been one other person in her life that she could remember doing that. She had seen her father meditate many times, going through complex katas in a state of semi-trance. She had often stole from her bed, late during the long cool summer nights, and watched her father in his training, marveling at the fluidity of his movements. There was an effortless quality to his actions, in his face and in his form that she had never seen before. He had changed the brutality of combat into a beautiful, yet deadly dance, and had acquired the martial talents of numerous disciplines.

Now, the person ultimately responsible for his death stood below in the courtyard, emulating his movements with increasing precision.

In the back of her mind, she felt betrayed. This gift should have come to her. She should have held this gift, not Hope. Not the monster that had taken his life. The sensation faded almost as quickly as it registered when she caught a glimpse of Hope's face in the silver moonlight. Thin streaks of tears flowed down her cheeks even as she moved, and instead of the peaceful expression that David had always her, Hopes was filled with emotion.

Xena turned and headed down to the courtyard, suddenly filled with concern. She passed through the gate in time to see Hope finish her exercises with one last graceful twirl, the weapons writhing in her hands and then vanishing into the sheaths at her side with an emphatic staccato pop.

She was down on one knee, her body rigid, breath heaving gently until her eyes opened, filled with anguished tears, and her breath burst out in a gasping sob. She let herself sink to the grass, weeping.

As before, the suspicions vanished in a wave of familial concern and Xena rushed to Hope's side.

The young woman felt Xena's arms encircle her and the tears flowed freely.

"Gods," she sobbed. "He was beautiful, Xena. He was so beautiful, and powerful, and warm, and," she choked, looking up at her older sister with bright, fearful eyes.

"This should have been for you," she said, echoing Xena's private thoughts of earlier. "Why did he do it, Xena?"

Xena shook her head, smiling softly.

"I took his family away from him, his life, his whole world and instead of hating me, he, he comes back and saves me? He drove Dahok out of my soul and gave me all of these, these, these gifts in spite of what I did to him!"

She was ranting now as her newly found emotions began to consume her again.

"Why did he, Xena?" she pleaded. "Why?"

Her emotions and her questions vanished in a moment when she beheld a figure standing near the edge of the courtyard like a deeper shadow among the foliage. She caught a glimpse of light from the face, deep and crimson, like embers, and then the demonic eyes turned away and melted into the bushes.

"Who was that?" she whispered, now terrified.

"What?" Xena asked, looking in the indicated direction. She could see nothing but the subtle shift of shadow within the outer layer of foliage lining the courtyard. "Where?"

"I thought I saw," Hope began. She paused and shook her head. "Never mind."

"What did you see?" Xena asked.

"Nothing," Hope finally admitted. "Shadows."

Hope reached up and gave Xena's encircling arm a reassuring squeeze. "Thanks," she sniffed.

"For what?" Xena asked.

"Just, you know." Hope shrugged. "Not being angry with me. Well, more angry with me than usual."

"I don't know what happened to you, Hope," Xena confessed. "Maybe I'll never know how it all worked, or what my father gave you. I can live with that. Yes, a part of me wonders why you got what you got from him, and maybe there was a time when I was a little jealous that you did get his gifts. But not any more."

"Why not?" Hope asked as she wiped her eyes.

"Because no matter how much you try," Xena smiled. "My dad did it better than you ever will."

Hope looked up in shock and saw the smile on Xena's face. Suddenly, a soft laugh burst from her, and with it, a little more of the weight she carried in her heart.

"How did you deal with it, Xena?" she asked suddenly. "The last time?"

"With what?"

"The guilt," Hope replied. "How did you deal with it when you realized," she stopped again.

"Go ahead," Xena nodded.

Hope closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"When you realized everything you had done and all the pain you made others suffer was wrong." She nearly blurted. "How did you deal with the fact that you had been so - that you had done all those terrible things and," Her voice caught.

Xena's gaze turned inward to her previous life. Her blue eyes looked soft and thoughtful.

"How did you do it once you found yourself?" Hope finished. "Found your real self, you know?"

Xena smiled. "Well, for one thing. I had a lot of help from someone who cared about me."

"You mean mother," Hope nodded.

"And a few others, but Gabrielle was the most important one." Xena explained. "In the beginning, I would slip back into old habits so easily and she was always there pointing out alternatives or getting me thinking again before I just went off."

Xena shrugged. "I'm not saying it was always roses with us. We disagreed with one another, violently at times, but we never lost our respect or our love for each other, and I think that's why things worked out the way they did."

"You loved her," Hope nodded.

"I still do," Xena nodded.

"What does that feel like, Xena?" Hope asked suddenly. "How does it feel to love someone that much?"

The question was unusually forward for Hope, and considering her delicate state of development, quite a leap of trust to ask for confidences this personal. Again, another small portion of the wall of distrust disintegrated between them.

Xena considered her answer for a long moment.

"Clouds," she said as her eyes drifted upwards to the wisps of cloud moving lazily across the deep purple sky. "It feels like clouds."

Hope frowned in spite of her melancholy, which only prompted another smile from Xena.

"Come on," she rose, offering her hand. "I think you've impressed me enough for one night. We need to get some rest before we go back to that shop tomorrow."

Hope awoke with a start. The sunlight streamed in through the open window, momentarily blinding her. Beside her, Xena lay deep in sleep. Hope was mildly amused to see her older sister contentedly sucking her thumb as she slumbered.

That moment of amusement helped to drive away the remnants of the bloody images that had awakened her.

David had told her that the dreams would never truly go away. It was a part of her life that she would have to carry with her till the end of her days.

Her thoughts drifted back to the strange apparition that she had glimpsed in the foliage the previous evening.

Moving quietly, so as not to disturb her sister, Hope dressed and returned to the courtyard, moving along the tall bushes that lined the edge of the place, her eyes scanning the branches and the ground for any sign of disturbance.

She found nothing, even thought he movement of the figure should have left an impression on the soft, well tilled earth. No footprints were evident, and event eh smallest of trigs was unscathed. It was as if the figure had simply melted through the growth instead of pushing it aside.

"Find anything?" a voice called out.

Hope practically jumped out of her skin as she shot to her feet and wheeled around.

Xena stood in the window again, fastening one of her bracers to her forearm with expert ease.

It took a few moments before Hope caught her breath. She shook her head.

Xena shrugged. "Well, then don't worry about it. Meet me out front."

They found themselves back at the vendor's small edifice again. He grinned broadly when they approached and ushered them into his small shop eagerly.

"Good morning, good morning," he said cheerfully. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."

Xena handed him her bundle of leather armor. He took it and spread it out on a nearby work table as he began inspecting it carefully.

"This armor is old," he commented appreciatively. "Very old. Older than you are, I expect. Where did you come by it, if I may ask?"

Xena was a little put off by the question. "It was handed down to me."

"Through a few generations, I expect." He nodded. "The workmanship is superb, and the detailed filigree is the work of a master."

"Thank you," Xena smiled.

The shop keeper indicated several of the fasteners and shook his head. "I think this must have hung unused for a time. These fasteners haven't been maintained like the rest."

He smiled and gave her a nod. "No matter. It should only take a few minutes to fix them."

Hope was busy moving along the rear wall of the shop, here and there inspecting various pieces of leather armor hanging from wooden pegs.

The shop keeper noticed this and stood up straighter.

"Ah, miss," he said politely. "No need for you to peruse. I have yours prepared for you."

Both women frowned at that statement.

"Prepared for me?" Hope asked.

"Indeed," The shopkeeper smiled. He looked Hope up and down and then gave a nod.

The man stepped through a small doorway and emerged bearing a large bundle of cloth.

Their curiosity piqued, the girls stepped up to the long table as the shop keeper began to carefully unwrap the bundle.

The leather was colored a deep, beautiful burgundy color, filigreed in silver. The set included a pair of sturdy boots, bracers, greaves, breastplate and shoulder plates all held together with sturdy silver rivets.

"Tell you what, Miss," the shopkeeper said to Xena cordially. "Why don't you help her get settled in her suit, and I'll fix yours for you?"

Xena was rather taken aback by the masterful quality of the workmanship of Hope's armor. It took a moment for her to find her voice.

"Sure," she nodded. "Okay."

It took a little time to get Hope fitted properly into her outfit. The new leather was stiff and unyielding and despite being segmented and expertly riveted to allow freedom of movement, the garments seemed reluctant to allow Hope to turn and move naturally.

"I don't think this is working," she commented. As Xena fastened and adjusted one of the toggles under her arm.

She gave a little gasp in surprise. "That's way too tight." She complained.

"It won't be," Xena replied easily as she wrestled with the next fastening. Xena looked back at the shopkeeper.

He stood with his back to her, his narrow shoulders flexing slightly as his hands moved over Xena's armor with experienced ease.

"I assume that you have what we need to finish this out?"

"Of course," he replied in a distant voice. "Just let me know when you've finished."

"This stuff is biting into parts of me that I didn't know I had," Hope complained.

Xena smiled as she continued her work. "Don't worry about that. We'll fix it."

"I hope so." Hope replied with a grimace. "I think I know why mother never wore this stuff."

"In fact," Xena countered. "She had several sets that she used. She just didn't use them all the time."

"Probably because it was so uncomfortable," Hope replied.

"Remember," Xena said in an almost motherly tone. "This was what you wanted."

Behind them, the shopkeeper snickered just loudly enough for them to hear him.

Xena gave the leather thongs on the form fitted chest plate one more good, hard tug which made Hope gasp in pain.

"There," she said.

At the same moment, the shop keeper announced. "Done."

They both turned and exchanged places.

"Let me see," he said thoughtfully as he inspected Xena's work.

Xena studied her own armor closely. The new fittings looked perfect. If he had removed, cut, and refastened anything, the shop keeper was a master at it. Xena couldn't find where the repairs began or ended.

"Let me fasten the neck guard on as well," the shop keeper suggested. "Just for the purpose of this fitting. Afterwards, you can leave it off and only use it when you think it would be necessary."

He fastened the thick leather accoutrement around Hope's neck, making sure the protective pad slipped comfortably beneath the edge of her chest plate.

The design was simple and quite brilliant. With the neck guard in place, the wearer was covered from neck to waist in this, well oiled leather pads that were interlocked in a way that resembled snake scales. The burgundy and silver flashed like a thing alive in the sunlight.

"There," he smiled. "Now, when you're not in the thick of things, you can remove this piece and give yourself a little room to breathe."

He studied the item a moment.

"Where is the bottom of the guard hitting you?"

Hope drew a stiff hand up to a spot just above her chest.

"As I suspected," he nodded. He unfastened the neck guard and drew it off again. "I need to trim this down a touch. One moment."

He stepped back over to the table and drew a long, sharp knife. Quickly and neatly, he removed two inches from the bottom of the piece and then disappeared into his living quarters. He returned carrying a stack of buckets in various sizes.

He set the neck guard in one of the smaller ones and took up a large pail, slinging it over his shoulder.

"Very well," he nodded. "You may undress now."

"What?" Hope gasped.

"I'll be over at the well," He pointed to the well in the center of the small square. "I have a spare tunic hanging behind the door. It will belong enough for modesty. Just remove the armor and place the pieces in the buckets."

"Aren't you afraid we'll rob you blind the moment you walk out of here?" Xena asked.

"Will you?" He replied with a knowing smile. "Back in a moment."

"What was the point of me getting all of this on?" Hope asked, annoyed.

"So we could fit it as closely to your size as we could," Xena shot back.

Grumbling to herself, Hope stepped through the small doorway into the shop keepers' workplace. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the light, but once they did, her armor was the last thing on her mind.

"Xena?" she said in awe. "You should see this."

"Just get out of that stuff, will you?" Xena shot back impatiently. "I don't want to be here all day."

The air was filled with the scent of leather. Old leather. Rotting leather. The kind of smell you get mingled with the stench of corpses after a battle. All along the walls hung suits of armor of many makes and many levels of quality, all of them coated in grime, and all of them nearly rotted away. They dangled like shreds of skin, hung on a butchers hook.

The table opposite the door was piled with a disorganized assortment of rusted or broken weapons, also of varying cultural designs.

Her green eyes flicked back, gazing through the open door to the small, narrow shouldered man drawing from the well. He was conversing happily with several small children as he pulled the heavy pail free of the well.

"Xena," she said again. "I really think you should see this."

Xena gave a little humph of exasperation and entered the room, stopping short just inside the doorway as the odor assailed her nostrils.

"What the hell is this?" she asked as she took it all in.

"This equipment looks like it was," Hope began.

"Taken from the dead?" a soft male voice finished.

Both women wheeled around, and Hope was surprised at how easily her hands found the hilts of her short swords.

"Yes," Xena replied.

The shopkeeper looked from one to the other and then nodded.

"That is because they were," he finished simply. "As was yours, my dear."

Hope was horrified. "But this is,"

"Good as new?" he finished for her. "Like it had never been worn? It is…again."

He turned and looked at Xena. "Just as yours has also been restored."

"Someone died in this armor," Hope gasped.

"Then surely, they no longer require it," He finished with a touch more ferocity. "Why must the thing die when the owner does as well? Why can the thing not be useful again?"

His dark eyes seemed to darken even more, and it seemed that the shadows in the room deepened with his bearing.

"What about the person who had this?" Hope demanded.

"Long ago turned to bones," The shop keeper replied. "The owner of those items has gone back to dust."

"And the rest of these?" Xena gestured to the moldering equipment strewn about the room.

"Hoplite weapons and armor from Sparta, Athenian and Ionian, and even some of the weapons and armor of the Persians." He shrugged. "And some others from less recent wars you would never have known about."

"You'd be surprised," Xena smiled coldly.

Hopes eyes widened in shock. "I know you."

The man smiled knowingly and nodded.

"Hope," Xena asked, looking back and forth between them. "What's going on?"

"Nearly there." The man answered.

Hope's mouth hung slack. "Entropis."

"And the child remembers," the man smiled and nodded. He looked to Xena and then back again. "I had not ever expected you to be as you are."

"I thought you had been destroyed," Hope stammered. "I was told that you,"

"Our father was never very good at being honest, little sister," Entropis replied. "He wished I had been destroyed. Probably still wishes it, I expect. But his power has diminished somewhat of late."

"Hang on a second," Xena interjected. "You two are related? That would mean that both of you are,"

"Children of Dahok," Entropis finished for her. "Yes."

"What happened to you?" Hope blurted.

"What has happened to you, little sister?" Entropis replied.

"Little sister?" Xena echoed. "How many children did Dahok have?"

"Many," Entropis replied quickly. "Many upon many, over the millennia, have been born to undertake some task or other in his name."

He looked back at Xena. "Some of us accept the calling, while others, if given the opportunity, rebel and turn aside from their appointed tasks. It takes a fiercely independent mind to be able to drown out the call of our father."

He looked back at Hope. "But always, a desire for separation is required before it can even begin, and I remember you as one of the most devout of our family."

"But Dahok has been defeated," Xena said.

"Evil can never truly be defeated, Xena," Entropis answered. "It can be conquered, or shaped, even changed to good." He looked down at Hope again and smiled. "But it can never be erased from existence. To do so would be to destroy all that is good in the world along with it."

"And how you have changed, sister," He finished, reaching a weathered hand to touch her cheek.

"It's a very long story," Hope replied, still in awe. She blinked suddenly. "How have you stayed hidden for so long? Even at my least powerful, I should have been able to feel your presence, but I couldn't?"

"I had a little help," Entropis smiled.

"So it was you at the courtyard last night," Xena concluded.

"Courtyard?" He replied. "Which courtyard?"

"By the inn where we were staying," Xena finished. "Don't even try and tell me that you didn't know."

"Oh I knew," Entropis nodded. "But I did not go there."

"How have you avoided me?" Hope demanded, pulling the conversation back in the way she wished it to go. "How could I not feel you?"

"If you have not learned that answer, then it is not my place to tell," Entropis smiled. "But you will learn soon enough."

"Learn what?" Hope begged.

"Let us see about this armor," Entropis said quickly. Suddenly, he was all business, critically checking over the gear. "And since we have no secrets here, now, I can dispense with the pleasantries."

He let his hands come to rest on Hope's shoulders and closed his eyes.

Hope felt a subtle tingling flow over her skin, as if energy were passing though her body, entering through her left shoulder and washing through every limb before passing out again through her right shoulder.

As Xena watched in amazement, the leather of the armor seemed to soften, swiftly molding itself to the contours of its new wearer. The stiff material became supple before hardening again.

"There," Entropis said with a breath. "How does the fit feel now?"

Hope moved her arms experimentally. Then she twisted at the waist and checked the rest of the armor. It moved as if it had been grafted to her body. Nothing bound or pinched. The sensation of it against her skin was comfortable, like a well worn shirt or coat.

Entropis reached past her and took a small flask of oil and a rag. He began expertly oiling the leather.

"I have endowed these armors with a little of my magic," he confided. "They will not wear out as quickly as most others would."

He looked up at Xena. "My gift to you for saving my sister."

"Oh, it wasn't," Xena offered. She stopped when he looked at her questioningly.

"It was my father that, well, snapped Hope out of it," Xena offered.

"I see." He moved about her.

"I don't understand," Hope asked. "Who helped you?"

"My wife," Entropis replied easily.

"And where is she?" Xena asked.

"She passed away some three centuries past," Entropis replied easily.

"Centuries?" Xena asked.

"It is partly how I survived," he explained. "I entered into the cycle of the living as one of them. I live, let my appearance age and decay, and then I die."

He smiled. "Then, when no one is looking, I leave the grave and move on to the next place, and the next, and the next, on through the ages."

"You're immortal?" Xena asked.

"Except for being destroyed by our father," Hope answered. "Most of my elder family was created immortal. He didn't change that until he began to have trouble with some of them disobeying or abandoning him." She looked at Entropis. "Like you."

"Like me," Entropis smiled. He finished wiping down Hope's boots and then moved out to where Xena's armor lay on the table and began oiling that.

He indicated the small children playing near the well with a nod of his head.

"I will remain among these people long enough to see Florina's children, or until Dalius there returns from finding his fortune," He grinned. "He wants to travel the world and see its wonders. Ah, the dreams of children."

His smile became somewhat sad. "Then one day, I'll just stop and wait till they find me. I'll be buried by the river, as I requested. I'll sleep for a time until the excitement dies down, then I'll rise and move off to the next place. Just as I have in the past."

He finished his work and stepped away from the table. "There you go ladies. All set."

"Thank you," Xena nodded.

"There is one more thing," Entropis smiled.

"And that is?" Xena asked.

"Well, considering where I actually found your armor," he looked at Hope. "I suppose I cannot charge you a price as if it was new, but I will require something. I am running a business here, after all?"

The two girls looked at each other and smiled.

Xena placed a purse of coins on the table. "I think that's fair."

Entropis held the purse for a moment and nodded.

"Very well," he escorted them to the fenced edge of his shop and then suddenly embraced Hope.

She stiffened at the affectionate contact.

"It is good to see you," he said sincerely. "You take care of yourself."

As the two of them walked away from the village, Hope found herself looking back over her shoulder at the small unobtrusive trader's shop that her brother called home.

Xena marked her companions' thoughtful expression. Where Gabrielle would be voicing her thoughts, Hope remained silent.

Xena studied the armor Hope wore, now contoured to her form and looking as if it had truly been crafted for her. It was of Mediterranean design, with a hint of eastern fashion mingled in functional burgundy and silver.

The interwoven leather of the bodice resembled idealized snake or dragon scales, alternating between deep burgundy and black, accented by the silver rivets that held them in place.

The bicep and bracers were similarly detailed with actual snake skins inlaid on the bracers while the bicep and shoulder protection was more molded in detail to accent the style of the suit. Her boots were a mingling of leathers, again dominantly burgundy in color, but with black and brown mixed in and clasped by silver toggles. Instead of breeches, she wore, like Xena, a skirt of overlapping burgundy and black plates sewn together in the same interwoven reptilian style.

Hopes new weapons, the two short curved swords hung comfortably at her hips.

"The suit looks good on you," Xena offered, hoping to start a conversation.

Once again, Hope looked back down the path they had traveled even though the village itself had long ago fallen from sight.

"It suits you," Xena finished with a small smile.

Hopes thoughtful frown refocused on her. "What do you mean?"

Xena shrugged. "It just does."

She considered for a moment. "Gabrielle was a warrior, in the end, but she never really embraced it."

Xena framed her words carefully. "And she had a different sense of style, I suppose. She wouldn't ever wear anything like I did, or like you are for that matter. The idea of seeing her in something like that just doesn't fit, you know?"

"But it fits me," Hope concluded.

"Yeah," Xena nodded. "In a strange way, it does. As much as you look like her, it suits you. It just makes it clear that you are your own person, I suppose."

Hope seemed to digest that for a moment. She looked down at her equipment, and then once again, looked back.

"Okay," Xena sighed. "Spill it."

"Hm?" Hope looked back up at Xena. "Oh, nothing."

Xena gave her a knowing look and borrowed a word from her father.

"Bullshit."

Hope stopped and looked back, and then she held her hands out indicating the armor and weapons she currently carried.

"Why would he help me?" she asked. "We were enemies for decades, brutal enemies. I was always told that if I found him I should destroy him on sight, period. He knew all that and yet, he gives me this?"

"Well, technically, we bought it from him," Xena countered.

"And before that, mother, Ian, the Druid, and even your father?" Hope went on. "People I would have swept aside without a second thought, and they all knew it. Still, they've all been nice to me, more than nice. They've saved my life, helped me get started, given me a fresh beginning. Why?"

"Because they love you, Hope," Xena countered. "They all saw something in you that gave them hope. Why do you think mom named you Hope?"

"I could be faking it," Hope offered.

"Don't think that hasn't crossed my mind," Xena replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "But I doubt it now more than I did a month ago."

"Why?"

"Because even the best con artist would have cracked somewhere along the way by now." Xena finished. "People can see that you are a good person, just by looking at you, Hope. They get that intangible feeling that says, 'it's okay'. Not like your old Ice Princess routine."

"But that is a part of me too," Hope said as they resumed walking.

"Yes it is," Xena nodded. "And you're going to have to figure out how best to use that part of yourself. That will take time, though. Kind of like the other things my dad dumped in your head."

"Time and patience," Hope nodded. She smiled wryly.

"Exactly."

They eventually left the woods and entered a large level clearing filled with the perfume and colors of wild flowers. The wind moved in undulating waves over the tall grasses, and the clouds coasted lazily by in the sky above.

"Time for a break," Xena offered.

The two of them sat down on a fallen log and enjoyed a small lunch.

"I want to try something," Xena said suddenly, as they were packing their things away.

"What?"

"You move well enough when you're meditating," Xena said. "But we haven't seen what you can do when you're in a real situation."

"Real situation?" Hope asked.

Xena set her pack on the ground and smiled.

"I think I can still kick your ass, okay?" she said with a smile.

Hopes eyebrows rose at the challenge and she also let her own pack fall to the ground.

"Oo," Xena teased.

"Okay," Hope smiled. "Let's see what happens."

They moved a short distance from the road and stood facing each other in the clearing.

"Ready?" Xena asked.

Hope nodded. Her expression was part anxious, part nervous.

"Okay," Xena dropped into a fighting stance. "Here we go."

Hope instinctively dropped into a stance of her own, moving around watching Xena for any signal of her intentions.

In a flash, Xena stepped up and unleashed a flurry of blows, all of which Hope deflected or dodged before ducking and spinning clear, creating a gap of precious space between them.

Xena smiled, side stepping slowly, her left hand inside, right hand leading.

"Not bad, sis," she nodded.

Hope smiled as she also stepped sideways and a little back, creating a greater comfort zone between them.

"Okay," Xena continued, beckoning to her. "Your turn."

"My turn?" Hope repeated with a short laugh.

Xena nodded. "Let's see what you got."

"Okay," Hope replied with a smile. "But I might hurt you?"

"Oh please!" Xena scoffed.

She had no time to say any more because Hope practically leapt in, striking with a combination of hands and feet, quick as lightning.

Even as the contest continued, their styles became less precise as they began to laugh uncontrollably.

Xena blocked another exchange and then leapt back, cart wheeling away even as Hope leapt into the air, spinning in a vicious roundhouse kick.

Hope landed neatly in a catlike crouch, smiling as Xena came back up in a low stance, arms in a defensive posture.

Slowly, she began clapping. The giggles exploded into exuberant laughter.

"Okay then," Xena nodded. "So dad taught you a few tricks."

"A few?" Hope laughed.

Xena nodded. "A few." She looked up at the sky and sighed. "We better keep going. We still have a lot of ground to cover before we catch up with those rumors about your old friends."

Hope grimaced. "Don't remind me."

They resumed their walking until the sun was setting then they found a small grove of trees and set up a hasty camp.

In no time at all, they had a small fire crackling merrily. The air was scented with burning oak, and the night animals made their music from beyond the firelight.

Hope sat near the fire, absently scratching the end of a small twig thoughtfully in the dirt at her feet.

Xena studied her for a long time, watching the subtle play of emotions on Hope's face. Instead of trying to open a discussion, she reached into her large traveling pack and drew a long bundle of cloth.

She carefully unwrapped it, revealing a beautifully crafted long red scabbard encasing an ornate eastern style sword.

It was, in fact, the sword she and Gabrielle had claimed in her past life, before she died. Gabrielle had claimed it as her own and then passed it on to her husband, David, who had used it in their adventures before Xena had been born into this life.

Hope's eyes locked on the weapon and her expression became haunted. This was also the sword that David had used in their final duel. She remembered the feel of that enchanted weapon stabbing through her flesh, and the power that had surged through it and her in that final exchange.

"Why did you bring that?" Hope asked.

"Well, I didn't want to leave it at home, unattended and I wasn't going to bother Sarah with watching it." Xena replied. "Besides, it never hurts to have a spare handy."

Hope was unconvinced. "What's the real reason?"

Xena shrugged. She studied the finely crafted scabbard with a hint of sadness.

"I don't feel like this should be with me now," she confided. "It doesn't belong."

"With you?" Hope pressed.

"With anyone in my family," Xena finished. "Once we get this whole thing sorted out, I'm going back to Japa."

She drew the magical blade from its scabbard. The silver flashed blood red and orange in the firelight.

"_Gotcha!"_

Hope jumped at the intrusive memory. Again she saw his face, smiling in fierce triumph even as her own weapon pierced his chest.

"Why go back to the place where you died?" she asked quietly.

"You came back to the house in Poditea?" Xena replied.

"I never died in Poditea," Hope's eyes were transfixed by the blade that had struck her. She felt a sympathetic twinge on her flesh where the old wound was.

"A part of you did," Xena replied. She lowered the weapon and laid it across her lap.

Hope's eyes followed the weapon. Her face bore a haunted expression, filled with remembered pain.

"You okay?" Xena asked as she began oiling the weapon.

"Yeah," Hope blinked. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"Good," Xena continued working. "Then maybe you can explain a few things to me?"

Hope nodded.

"How many kids are actually in your side of the family?" Xena asked. "And do you know of any of them that could pose as you and pull it off?"

Hope smiled grimly. "There were quite a lot, but only a few like Entropis, had any real abilities."

"Like who?" Xena asked.

"Well," Hope considered. "My sister, Desarina. She has a lot of the same abilities that I did, but she disappeared generations ago. Besides, she could never be mistaken for me. She wasn't the most athletic person in the world. Then there was Entropis and his twin brother Atrophis."

"I remember dad mentioning Atrophis," Xena nodded. "And his partner, Quintis."

"Quintis?" Hope frowned. "Oh, you mean Vashanka. Yeah, that was dad's failed attempt to blend two theologies together under his belt. He gave that idea up and had Vashanka help Atrophis after Entropis disappeared. Vashanka was destroyed. No one's seen or heard from Atrophis for a long time."

"From what I remember about mom and dad's encounter with them. Atrophis was pretty powerful, and Quintis," Xena stopped. "Vashanka, I mean. He was able to shape shift, among other things."

"True," Hope agreed. "But even if Atrophis was back, he wouldn't be leading an army. It wasn't his style at all."

"Oh?"

Hope shook her head. "He was kind of a silent loner, you know? He liked working in the shadows, unseen until it was too late. If I needed something done subtly, I would use him. He never liked the whole 'mass of troops' thing."

She considered for a moment. "In fact, Quintis was the first one to actually work with him for an extended period of time."

"And that was after Mom and David got together," Xena nodded.

Hope took a drink of water and nodded. "He and Vashanka had infiltrated an old temple and were recruiting followers for my father through some academy or something. Again, all very quiet and subtle."

"Until my folks drop in and start stirring up the pot." Xena smiled.

"That was the last any of us heard from Vashanka," Hope finished.

"Dad banished him," Xena said simply. "That's why."

Hope's eyes were wide in amazement. "Banished? Only a high priest or someone one step away from being a God can do that?"

"My dad was a priest," Xena smiled. "And a darn powerful one too."

"Apparently," Hope suppressed a shudder.

"And I think you will be too," Xena finished. "Someday."

Hope gave her a stern look. "I already was a powerful priestess," she shot back.

"Exactly," Xena grinned and stretched out on her sleeping roll. "Good night." Hope lay back and stared up at the stars twinkling in the heavens. She was tired, even more so than before because of her workout with Xena, and yet she couldn't bring herself to close her eyes and let her mind sink into slumber. She knew the faces would be there, emerging from the blackness, chanting names she never learned or could not consciously remember. Then she would fine herself in the temple again, awash in remembered blood as the drums boomed around her, drowning out the waking universe. She kept her eyes fixed on the twinkling lights above, hoping against hope that's he could carry that image into slumber and achieve one night of unhaunted dreams.

As she lay in silence, listening to the echoes of the night creatures and their mix of music, she watched the moon rising over distant hills. Its pale light shone silver among the trees and rippled in undulating waves upon the small pond beside their camp.

"_Hope." _

The voice seemed to echo across the still water without having made a sound.

She sat up and gazed across the silvery pond, watching the trees on the opposite side.

She looked across the campfire to where Xena lay curled up in her blanket. Gently, she moved beside her and lifted the cover.

She jumped back when she uncovered nothing more than the bony remains of a corpse, dressed in the same perfect armor worn by her sister. She let out a squeal of fright and scooted back as the skull rolled over and seemed to stare at her with its grinning, fleshless countenance.

A soft, evil laughter echoed across the pond, and this time, the water moved with the sound, radiating like small waves after a stone is dropped.

The flames of the campfire changed into an unholy green, and the silver light of the moon dimmed to deep crimson.

Hope got to her feet, her senses sharpening.

"This is only a dream," she said aloud.

"Yes it is," the soft icy female voice replied. "Only a dream."

She recognized the cadence, the coolness with which the mysterious voice spoke. It was hauntingly familiar in some way.

"Dreams are where we plan to create the world in which we live. Dreams are the destiny of the great, made manifest in the waking world."

"Who are you?" Hope asked. She slowly moved around the edge of the lake towards the shadowy trees.

"Don't you know?" the voice replied in a mocking tone, laced with venom.

That was the most uncomfortable aspect of this entire situation. Hope felt that she did know that enigmatic voice. It was familiar in a way that sent a shiver up her spine.

She moved into the darkness beneath the boughs and stepped gingerly among the gnarled roots reaching up from the earth. Her right hand came to rest upon the hilt of one of her weapons as her wide eyes moved back and forth, scanning the shadows.

"What are you going to do with that?" the voice asked. "We both know that you no longer have the will within you to truly use it."

"I might surprise you," Hope retorted, trying to project a confidence she did not feel.

"I doubt it," she heard the reply. "You will never use that as you are now."

Icy fingers encircled her upper arm and she was spun around with a startled cry.

The face staring back at her was her face, but the eyes were dull, black and lifeless. The flesh was pale and cold on her skin.

"I wouldn't hesitate, however," it sneered.

Hope recoiled away from the apparition, her mouth dropping open in horror.

"Who are you?" she asked.

The figure merely extended its arms in a theatrical shrug and smiled a smile that seemed to freeze the very air.

"Who are you?" it asked.

In a flash, the creature was before her. There was just enough time for Hope to realize the thing had closed upon her and then fire blasted through her chest as she went flying back.

She slammed into a thick tree with a crunch and slid down to the earth.

The doppelganger looked at her as if she were some revolting insect that should be squashed.

"You're nothing," she sighed. "You've become weak."

"_Some rules can be bent,"_ A memory clicked in her mind. "_Others can be broken."_

It was a matter of perspective. The fire in her back was there because she believed it should be there.

She let her mind clear, focusing inward, away from the pain and felt it subside with an ease she had not expected.

She rose to her feet and drew both of her weapons.

"Try that again," she said quietly.

Had the laughter been truly mirthful, it would have had a musical tone, pleasing to the ear. In this case, however, it was more akin to a snake hissing.

"Of course."

The evil clone leapt in and attacked with a ferocity that Hope was unprepared for. She fought desperately and managed to beat the creature back, her small swords hissing and whistling through the air.

At last, after the ferocious exchange, they separated.

"Not bad," the doppelganger admitted with a cruel smile. Then she leapt in again, and this time, after several really savage blows, she scored a hit.

Hope rolled with the painful impact and came up in a crouch, her weapons out, her golden hair hanging in matted strings in front of her eyes.

This time, Hope didn't wait for an attack. She took the initiative and charged in. Her weapons sliced to and fro attempting to cleave her evil mirror image. There were moments where she could have sworn her weapons bit into her opponent, but there were no injuries apparent.

Then the world was suddenly twisted sideways and she flew back again, struck by a vicious kick.

On reflex alone, Hope rolled over, coming up on one knee, weapons ready.

The doppelganger spat in disgust. "Pathetic. You even move like him now."

She leaned forward, taunting. "Is your mind filled with all those romantic notions of his as well? Love and happiness, peace and tranquility, morals and compassion?"

She folded her hands across her chest and stared at her with dark, lifeless eyes.

"Look at everything you've lost." It said. "Come back to me and reclaim what you've lost."

"Come back?" Hope frowned.

Somewhere in the distance she heard the sound of a wolf or dog baying.

"You can't do anything without me!" the doppelganger said. "It was me! Always when you needed to take action, when you needed to do what had to be done in your father's name, I was the one who made it possible!"

Hope lowered the weapons and stared in horror at the creature. "You?"

"Have all that power back, right now!" it said. "Don't wait for it, take it back now!"

"What are you?" Hope whispered.

The sound of the baying animals was closer now, and there was more than one, she was certain of it.

"I'm you," it replied. "I'm the real you. The you that you should be. I am what you were meant to be!"

"You're not me," Hope replied. "You couldn't be!"

"You are a Child of Dahok!" its voice rose in anger. "Not this weak, compassionate mortal thing!"

"No," Hope whispered, feeling her body tremble.

"Don't deny it!" The creature screamed at her. "Don't think for one second that this act you're putting on will grant you absolution! You are beyond absolution! You have a destiny, pre written for you within Dahok's order! You can't just walk away!"

"I have," Hope let her weapons fall to the ground. "Others have. I don't have to be that person ever again."

"You are that person!" It shouted back. "You have no choice!"

"There's always a choice," Hope replied. "Always!"

The creature leapt forward, scooping up one of Hopes discarded weapons. The blade stopped against Hope's throat. She felt the blade sting against her flesh.

"Here's your choice!" It hissed at her. "Return to Dahok or die!"

"I feel sorry for you," Hope said.

"What?" The creature frowned.

"Is this really what I was?" Hope asked. "This unfeeling, uncaring creature moving like a plague through the world?"

"This is who you are!" It hissed. "This is what you are!"

Hope shook her head and reached up to move the blade aside.

"You can't kill me without killing yourself," Hope said. The weapon moved aside and eventually fell back to the ground.  
"I am you!" it hissed. "And you, we are a Child of Dahok!"

"No," Hope reached up to embrace the specter. "We can be more."

"What are you doing?" it shrank back, showing fear for the first time.

Quickly, Hope wrapped her arms about the creature's neck and drew it to her.

"You are a part of me," she whispered even as it struggled against her. "But only a part. And I won't be able to survive without you."

The doppelganger struggled in her grip, screaming and howling even as Hope felt it weaken and begin to fade.

It seemed to draw itself into her body, melding with her psyche. She could feel the darker aspects of her soul merging with her new found morality. It was a sensation that almost resembled pain.

Her legs gave out and she toppled forward. Her green eyes faded, darkening to the death orbs of the creature she was embracing as a fury more pure than anything she had ever remembered began to flow through her veins.

Just as swiftly as it began, the torrent subsided. Her eyes returned to the clear, sparkling green. She looked up, feeling the trip hammer of her heart in her chest, and locked eyes with another creature, large, black, dog-like, with snarling yellow teeth and eyes the color of burning coals.

The dog growled like a roll of thunder, its lips twitching as it snarled. Saliva dripped from its teeth and fell, steaming onto the damp earth.

"Nice doggie," Hope whispered shakily. She slowly backed away on her hands and knees. "Good doggie."

She managed to get into a crouch under that evil red gaze before she saw the second beast of to her left.

Her fingers wrapped slowly around the grips of her weapons.

"Easy," she whispered. "Easy."

One of the creatures lowered its head, its pointed ears lay back flat against its oily black skull. It snapped and snarled once at her.

Hope started, taking a step back away from the beasts.

That sudden movement was all the two brutes needed. With a howl, they pounced.

Hope ducked away from one and felt the other impact her, driving her to the ground.

The creature rolled off of her body, snapping and barking angrily.

Hope didn't think. She simply got her feet beneath her and ran as fast as she could.

She risked a single look back just in time to see the bigger of the two leaping after her, its smoking jowls wide open to clamp down upon her throat. She felt her foot catch on something and she pitched forward with a cry.

When she struck the earth, it was not the soft carpet of dried forest leaves. Rather, she felt the sting of hard packed ground and stones against her palms and cheek.

"Welcome, child," a soft feminine voice greeted her. It was low, husky and seductive and yet at the same time dry with age. "We meet at last."

Hope raised her eyes and found a figure, clad in dark robes, staring down at her with two deep glowing yellow eyes.

She was tall, and appeared to be of middle age, wrapped in a hooded robe that swirled around her in an unfelt breeze.

In each of her hands she bore a single torch of golden yellow flame. They flickered and danced, casting vibrating shadows on the packed ground.

A glance behind found the two dogs seated on their haunches, blocking the way back. Two paved paths stretched before her in opposing directions with the robed figure standing in the center of the intersection.

"Who are you?" she asked once she had found her voice.

"Your benefactor," the figure replied. "Was my child."

"David?" Hope asked.

The figure nodded. "Just as his devotion to me awakened me in this time, his sacrifice paved the way for you to come before me."

"I don't understand," Hope frowned. "Who are you?"

"A guardian, of sorts," the figure replied. "I present choices and move the future of the world forward, always forward."

"Guardian?" Hope asked, glancing back nervously at the dogs.

"They will not harm you," it said, seeing the anxiety in Hope's expression. "They merely close one path behind you. You must now choose one of the two paths before you."

"Before me?" Hope asked. "But I have so many things I need to go back and atone for?"

"While you ma atone for the past," the figure replied. "You cannot return to the past in the way you seek."

"David did it," Hope countered before she could stop herself.

"David had a destiny to fulfill," the robed woman replied easily. "He is one of those few, great people to whom the laws of the universe tend to apply loosely, if at all."

"Was, you mean," Hope corrected with just a touch of sadness. "Because of me."

"He still is, Hope," The figure replied. "He still lives in another place, another time, in the arms of his beloved once again."

"He and mother are together again?" Hope felt a strange sort of relief at those words.

"They are." The figure replied. "It is the path that he often chooses when he returns to me."

"I guess that's sort of a relief," Hope looked down.

"Now it is your time to choose." The figure replied. "You may return to who you were or seek out who you are." The figure gestured to the two branches in the road respectively.

"I thought I couldn't go backward?" Hope asked.

"You cannot reclaim the deeds, or the days," the figure explained. "You can only move forward. But you can choose how you manifest yourself as you move forward. That is the choice that brings you before me."

"I don't want to be who I was," Hope said.

"Why?" the figure asked neutrally. "You were powerful, rivaling any priest or priestess in any temple in any kingdom."

"That wasn't me," Hope replied. "Not the real me."

"And this is?" the spirit asked. "This countenance is the real, true self within your heart?"

"Yes," Hope nodded. "Well, I think so. It's more me than I was before. Everything means more to me as I see it now. Before, I never saw anything beyond the mission of my father."

"Make your choice," The figure said in a soft, yet commanding tone. By your choice will I know your heart."

The cold portion of her soul began quietly prodding again even as she rationalized both options. Before the darkness inside her could win her over, she turned and ran down the path…

And sat up with a soft cry dying on her lips. She was covered in cold sweat and her heart was racing.

"What was all that?" she managed to ask the night.

"The end of a chapter," A soft voice whispered behind her.

She rolled over and got her legs beneath her, anticipating an attack.

Across the pond she could barely make out the shadow of the figure she had encountered in her dream.

It stood statuesque on the far bank, yellow eyes fixed upon her. At her feet, on either side, the two dogs sat or lay, staring hungrily at her.

"Who are you?" Hope asked again.

"You will know me, child," the figure replied. "As you come into your own."

The next day, Xena noticed something about her companion as they traveled. She was more talkative and cheerful than she had been up to that point. In spite of her somewhat tired appearance, she seemed filled with energy. It was as if some huge weight had been lifted from Hope's shoulders. She seemed more aware of the world around her, more enthralled by its beauty and variety.

"Okay," Xena finally said when she could bear it no longer. "What's going on?"

"What?" Hope asked with a smile.

"This?" Xena gestured to her. "One day you're Miss Morose and the next morning you're so happy and bubbly it's making me want to smack you!"

"Yeah," Hope grinned. "Isn't it great?"

"Gabr-" Xena stopped. "Hope! What's going on?"

At the slip, Hope's expression sobered a little.

"Sorry," Xena offered.

"No," Hope shook her head. "It's alright."

Hope's smile returned. "It's fine."

Xena fixed her with a glare. "But the question remains. What's going on?"

Hope considered her words for a moment.

"I woke up this morning and realized something wonderful," she began. "I'm free. I mean absolutely, totally and completely free and it's the most incredible feeling!"

"Yeah?" Xena asked, folding her arms across her chest.

"Don't you see?" Hope replied. "I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want! I can see the world and help the people in it! I mean really help them! I can see the inner goodness in things in a way that I never could before and it's wonderful!"

"That's nice," Xena sighed. She had expected Hope to have some emotional issues in the beginning, but she hadn't expected this. "Tell me, what brought on this incredible revelation?"

"I had a dream last night," Hope began excitedly. "I met this person, well two people really, but one of them was me, but it really wasn't me, you know? It was like my evil twin, a dark side of me, if that makes any sense?"

"More than you think," Xena nodded.

Hope ran through her encounter with her darker self and Xena found her own mind wandering back to a similar encounter in her past life where she, too, had encountered a darker aspect of her past and had been forced to acknowledge it for what it was before she could conquer it.

"And when that part was all over, I think I met the Goddess that David followed," Hope finished.

"You think?" Xena asked.

Hope nodded. "And she told me that one chapter of my life was over and another had just begun."

"Hope," Xena explained. "That doesn't mean it all goes away. It just means that you've made it through that part of your life and onto something new and better. The memories will still be there."

"I know," Hope nodded. "But David said something that I'm finally starting to understand."

"And that is?" Xena asked.

"That those faces won't ever go away," Hope's mood dipped a bit. "But that I could learn to be friends with them, eventually."

"Be friends with them?" Xena asked. She considered that for a moment and then nodded. "Okay, I can understand that."

She was about to say more when a scent met her nose. She stopped and sniffed the air.

"What is it?" Hope asked.

The scent was faint, bittersweet and unmistakable.

"This way," Xena pointed in a direction leading off the main road.

They continued through the trees along a rough path that meandered along a small noisy creek. A soft pale mist was drifting along the ground.

Suddenly, Hope stopped. "I smell it now." She said in horror. She was all too familiar with the odors of death.

They continued towards the wafting smells. Eventually they began to hear the soft crackling of burning fires, and the smoke took on the charred scent of wood.

"What is this place?" Hope asked.

"Hunting camp," Xena replied.

They entered a small clearing and found the remains of the camp.

A roughly constructed cabin, reminiscent of the one that Hope had recovered in after escaping prison, sat in the center of the clearing, its roof partially collapsed and smoking.

Several tents were also scattered about the place, all torn and rent. Tatters of cloth fluttered in the acrid breeze.

In spite of this horror, it was the bodies lying here and there among the grasses that transfixed Hope.

Xena moved through the carnage, her sword in her hand. It looked like two groups of hunters had set up the place as a central hub to eat and sleep, providing mutual protection for them.

Xena finished her circuit and found no one alive.

"We need to get going." She called to Hope. "There's nothing we can do for these people."

When her sister failed to answer, Xena turned and saw her kneeling on the ground.

"Hope," Xena said, stepping over to her.

The child couldn't have been more than six or seven years of age, a boy in the beginnings of life, now with a cut throat, lay in Hope's lap, his clear dark eyes staring up at the sky in wide wonder.

"Oh no," Xena whispered.

"Did you feel, about me, the way I feel right now about the people who did this?" Hope asked in a voice laced with old familiar venom.

Xena took a deep breath. "Yes."

Hope stroked the dead boy's hair and closed his eyes. Her own were filled with unreleased tears, frozen in outrage.

"There had to be a reason for this," Xena continued. "This is a small camp, out of the way. They shouldn't have known about it."

Hope gently lay the boy back on the ground and focused on the half demolished hut.

"Maybe they knew it was here," she said in a hoarse voice.

"How would they?" Xena asked.

Hope got to her feet and walked purposefully towards the building.

She stood in the entrance studying the interior.

"What is it?" Xena asked.

In the center of the room, a portion of the floor had been lifted away revealing a hidden chamber. The wooden planks and coverings lay in a burning heap off to one side.

"They knew this place was here," Hope growled. She ducked into the building and dropped lightly into the pit.

When she climbed back out again, she held a bundle and a single sword in her hand.

She handed the weapon to Xena and then unfurled the cloth with a quick snap of her arms.

"This is like the weapons your priests used to use," Xena began. Then she saw the robe that Hope was holding, also like the followers of Dahok.

"This was once a shrine to Dahok," Hope said darkly. "Many years ago, we also used it as a weapons cache. We stored weapons and supplies here beneath the altar. My father protected them so that they would not decay and would remain as they were till the time they were needed. Whoever killed these people was involved with my inner circle, Xena. Because I only trusted them with the knowledge of places like this."

"Which one could it be?" Xena asked.

At that, Hope frowned. "I don't know."

She ran thoughts back in her mind.

"The day we faced your family in Poditea," hope continued. "I brought my entire inner council with me. And when David finally arrived, he managed to kill all of them. At least that's what I was led to believe?"

"Is it possible that one of them survived?" Xena asked.

Hope shrugged. "Maybe, but I doubt it. We both know how your father fights when he's enraged. Nothing escapes him when he reaches that point."

"Then there has to be someone else," Xena offered.

"Where's the nearest village?" Hope asked suddenly.

"There's a fishing village called Hebrus a few hours from here," Xena informed her.

"Hebrus," Hope echoed.

She found her eyes looking down at the dead child. "After we lay these people to rest," she finished sadly.

They took some time and respectfully wrapped each body in whatever cloth they could find, mostly blankets and tent canvas. Next, they built a pyre from the ruined wood of the hut and tents.

Hope laid the corpse of the boy on the pyre last, her hand pausing for a moment on the top of his head.

Xena saw the emotion in Hope's face, falling back into melancholy. She sniffed and turned away.

Xena stepped forward and set a lit torch among the timbers beneath the bodies. The flames leapt up hungrily as the two women stood respectfully a short distance away.

"I swear," Hope whispered. "I will make this right. I'll make it all right."

TBC

26


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The Town of Hebrus was burning in the fading afternoon sun. Xena and Hope stood on a small hill, looking down at the cluster of burning buildings. Thick black smoke rose in massive plumes, covering the surrounding land in shadow. The screams drifted up to them on the wind.

Beside her, Xena could feel the rage boiling in Hope as she watched the slaughter. Here eyes were wide, but filled with wrathful determination. Her chest heaved and her heart was thundering in her chest.

"We have to do something!" she cried.

Xena reached over and held her back as she stepped forward.

"Not yet," She counseled.

"People are dying down there!" Hope protested.

"Just wait," Xena said firmly.

What was there to look at, besides carnage? Hope felt her every muscle tensing in sympathy for the people below. The priests of Dahok moved through the town, killing anyone in their path.

She could only see the outer edge of the village. The smoke and flames obscured her view of the rest. Her frustration rose even as the screams began to fade.

Then she noticed something wrong. The priests of Dahok, moved around in a disorderly fashion, here and there stopping to collect discarded treasures, or loot the fallen.

This had never been the way she operated. The methodology of her order was missing from the attack. There was no coordination to the violence at all. Gaps were open that could allow cunning villagers to conceal themselves and then make good an escape.

She needed to see more. She had to see beyond the flames and try and see the person in charge. She needed those flames extinguished. She needed the smoke to blow away.

Neither of them even noticed the darkening sky until the first thick drops of rain splattered on Xena's shoulders.

"What the?" She began.

Before she could even finish her question, the drops became a torrent, and a veritable wall of rain moved down across the field and over Hebrus.

Hope seemed oblivious to the inundation. Here eyes were fixed intently upon the scene below.

The wind whipped around them, moving in undulating waves across the tall grasses before driving the smoke and fumes away.

Xena looked over at Hope and saw her fixated upon the site below. Every muscle in her body seemed tense as a drawn bow.

"Are you doing that?" She asked.

Hope didn't answer. She stayed completely focused on the village.

"Hope?" She watched her younger sibling with growing concern. "Hope, that's enough. Stop it."

Hope didn't seem to even know that Xena was there. Her body was like stone.

Xena frowned in growing concern.

A trickle of blood emerged from Hope's nostril. Xena had learned a long time ago what that meant.

"Hope, stop it!" she said sharply. She reached over and put a hand on her shoulder. "Stop it!"

She gave Hope a quick shake, effectively breaking her gaze upon the site below. She breathed in sharply and would have fallen to the ground if Xena had not been there to catch her.

"What was that?" Xena asked sharply. "Did you do that?"

"I'm sorry," Hope gasped. "It ran away from me. Lost control."

Xena spun her around to face her. "You almost lost more than that, stupid!" she blurted. "You almost," She stopped.

The rain tapered off and the clouds began to thin as the summoned storm dispersed.

"Do you remember what David told you?" Xena said angrily. "You need to watch yourself! That wasn't watching yourself!"

"I'm sorry," Hope shook her head.

"Don't be sorry!" Xena blurted. She grabbed Hopes shoulders and faced her, giving her a shake. "Be smarter!"

Hope looked up at Xena in surprise. In her blue eyes, Hope saw true, honest concern for her well being. There was nothing of obligation in her expression. Xena truly did care about her. She smiled weakly.

"I'll try and be more careful," she nodded. "Thanks for snapping me out of it."

Some of the anxiety left Xena's expression, replaced by a softer compassion.

"Are you alright?" she asked more softly.

Hope took stock of herself for a moment. Aside from a ripping headache she was fine physically.

"Just a little dizzy," she nodded. "I'm fine."

They looked down at the village again. The flames had subsided and the smoke was gone. They could see everything in the ruins below.

The priests still moved through the wreckage, leading a long string of prisoners towards the center of town. In the square, they could see a cluster of the priests gathered around a single figure.

The central figure was also clad in the robes of a priest, but this one also flashed with silvery trim on the edges.

The figure lowered the cowl on her robe and they both saw the thick main of golden blonde hair.

Then the figure turned to address the prisoners being brought into her presence.

"What the hell?" Xena gasped.

"Impossible," Hope said at the same time.

Standing in the square below was an identical figure. She had the same long golden locks, same green eyes, though hers were cold, like pools of death. It was Hope.

Xena looked back and forth between the two figures.

"That's not possible!" Hope exclaimed.

"Okay!" Xena nodded. "We both know that! It can't be you, so, who is it?"

"I don't know," Hope shook her head. "All I do know is that she will kill those people if we don't do something!"

"I have an idea," Xena said quickly. "Tell me, how big of a bitch can you be?"

Hope looked at Xena and frowned. "What?"

"Here's what I want you to do," Xena said quickly.

The priest moved between two smoldering homes, his staff prodding here and there, seeking treasure or perhaps, a concealed panel or trap door that may hold more villagers.

"What do you think you're doing?" an icy voice asked from behind him.

He turned and the snide remark perished before it left

Standing among the steaming timbers was the Lady, but not in her regular robes. Instead, she now wore deep red and silver armor, with two short swords hanging from her hips.

"My Lady," he stammered, dropping to his knee in supplication. "Forgive me, I was, I mean, I wanted to,"

"Shut up," Hope hissed.

The priest fell silent.

"You have betrayed me," Hope continued as she stood towering over the kneeling priest. "You abandon me and then turn your faith to a false priestess. I should gut you for your ignorance!"

"Lady," he stammered.

"What?" Hope growled. "I have never been, nor will I ever be _your _Lady!"

"Mistress," The priest corrected himself. "Forgive me, Mistress, but we could not find you after Poditea. The brethren searched the world for you and found nothing! Then you returned to us here, as if from the heavens! You returned and our crusade continued!"

Hope lost her temper and kicked the priest in the chin. He launched himself skyward and landed in a heap several feet away.

The priest rolled over and looked at this armor clad vision of his faith with renewed horror. He pulled himself to his knees and bowed his head to the ground.

"Forgive me, Mistress," he babbled. "Forgive me!"

Hope knelt down and lifted the priests eyes to fix upon her own. "Denounce the false Child of Dahok and bring the villagers to me, and I will spare your life!" she hissed. "If you do not, I will feed on your soul!"

The priest nodded emphatically and let himself be dragged to his feet.

"Go!" Hope commanded, shoving him in the indicated direction.

As soon as he faded into the mist, Xena stepped from concealment.

"Wow," she offered. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were right back to where you were a couple years ago."

Hope looked over at her with glacial intensity. "It isn't difficult to be angry about this." She gestured to the carnage around them.

"You going to be able to handle this?" Xena asked.

Hope nodded.

"Okay," Xena went on. "I'll get into position, good luck."

Hope nodded and strode out towards the dirt trail that served as the main street for Hebrus.

As she walked, she could feel a power building within her. The sensations were strange to her, even as the energy was familiar. It was so much like she had been, and still untainted by her dark father.

"_Watch your temper!"_ David's voice echoed in her memory.

The priest did not bring the prisoners as ordered. He ended up bringing everyone. The prisoners, the contingent of priests, and much to Hopes cold delight, the one pretending to be her.

"Well, well, well," she said as they came within earshot.

The lead figure, her twin, stopped short when she saw her.

Hope saw her eyes momentarily widen in shock before the cool, detached expression reasserted itself.

"What do we have here?" she cooed in a soft voice.

"I was going to ask the same question," Hope replied. "Just who do you think you are?"

The High Priestess placed a hand over her heart and smiled in mock surprise.

"Me?" she laughed. "Who do you think _you_ are?"

Hope's gaze went even darker and her head dropped slightly as she gazed daggers at the High Priestess.

"I am Hope," she growled. "Daughter of Dahok." She began stalking forward. "And I will not suffer imposters in my order!"

The High Priestess waved a dismissive hand in her direction. "Kill her."

The two short swords sang as they were drawn.

The priests looked back and forth between the two women, some in confusion, but most in fear at having to confront either of these two figures.

The High Priestess looked about her sharply.

"Didn't you hear me?" she ordered. "Kill her!"

Four of the nervous priests broke rank and charged Hope with a cry that was only half convincing.

Hope sidestepped the first one, swept the legs out from beneath the second one. She blocked a vicious sword thrust by the third and then hammered her fist into his nose. He dropped cold to the ground.

The fourth received a boot into the side of his face, sending him to oblivion. Then Hope wheeled around and slammed her fist into the first one's face before rolling over and dropping her outstretched leg onto the chest of the second. Both men gasped and went still as Hope finished her roll, and came back to her feet with feline grace.

The High Priestess looked at the four men lying unconscious. She nodded once, as if in approval.

"Impressive," she said. "Still, it only proves that you are the imposter."

Hope continued forward. All eyes were fixed on the confrontation.

"Oh really?" Hope asked with a cold smile.

"If you were the Daughter of Dahok, you would have rewarded such incompetence with death," the High Priestess said confidently.

At that, the eyes of the assembled priests hardened.

Hope glanced past the throng just in time to see the last of the captured villagers vanish around a smoking ruin. Xena waved the last of them by her and then looked up and gave her a nod.

"I also reward foolishness the same way," Hope smiled. "And any fool who raises a hand against me will suffer long before I finally kill them."

The High Priestess raised an amused eyebrow, and then stretched out her hand.

Something slammed into Hope's chest like a battering ram. She sailed back through the air and landed in a heap near a burning wall. Her weapons spun off into the debris.

Hope rolled over and got to her feet.

Her weapons arced back through the air, returning to her hands.

She rose and spied Xena staring past the corner of the small ruined shrine to Athena.

Xena shook her head and motioned for her to get out.

Hope ignored her and faced the High Priestess.

"My turn." She snarled, striding purposefully back towards the confrontation.

Xena's eyes went wide and she shook her head quickly.

The High Priestess looked at the anxious clergy surrounding her. With a sigh, she strode forward to meet Hope.

"When you want something done right," she sighed.

At the same time, both women launched towards each other in a vicious attack.

The High Priestess easily avoided Hope's slashes and stabs. She moved with fluid efficiency until Hope had begun to tire. The High Priestess stretched out a single hand to ward off a vicious double cut.

The two weapons stopped against the palm without so much as denting the flesh.

"I don't think so," she snarled. Hope barely had time to recognize the mild surprise on the imposters face before she retaliated. With an inhuman roar, she slammed the palm of her other hand against Hope's sternum and watched in satisfaction as her opponent was hurled back over a collapsed hut and landed in the midst of a second crumbled structure.

Hope felt the hot embers of the burnt out building begin to seep through her armor. She rolled quickly to her feet, ignoring the pain of her landing.

She was furious at her inability to combat this creature. Her breath came in heaving gasps. Her blood burned like cold acid in her veins.

She screamed in fury. Her cry echoed through the low valley, torturing the ears of the assembled priests.

Even the High Priestess clamped her hands over her ears, wincing in pain as the cry built quickly to a terrible crescendo.

The energy exploded out from her, blasting the debris in a huge cloud of devastation. It engulfed everyone in the village in a dark cloud of soot, debris, and hot ash.

Robes caught fire in the maelstrom. The priests of Dahok and their leader all scrambled to find cover in the sudden storm.

When the smoke and debris settled, Hope stood at the epicenter of the destruction.

The High Priestess pulled herself from a pile of debris, her eyes wide in astonishment.

Hope locked eyes with her. She looked like an animal, covered in soot and dust, her hair matted and hanging in damp strings in front of her face. Her green eyes blazed.

She raised her sword and pointed at the High Priestess. Then she turned and walked away from the carnage before her opponents could see her tears begin to flow.

The High Priestess rose to her feet, still utterly astonished at what she had beheld.

All around her, the priests were extricating themselves from the ruins, each of them looking at their leader with dark, suspicious eyes.

The priest that Hope had intimidated drew a dagger and looked at the High Priestess. His gaze bounced back and forth between his leader and the diminishing figure at the edge of the village.

"Dahok has abandoned us!" he cried in dismay. His eyes were wide with fanatical madness. "We have been misled by this pretender and Dahok has stuck us all down!"

"Shut up, imbecile," The High Priestess shot back. "She is not,"

She didn't get to finish as the priest stepped quickly forward and rammed his dagger through the High Priestess's belly.

"I shall atone for my sin!" he cried.

The High Priestess's face contorted in pain and surprise. Her hands instinctively grasped at the blade intruding upon her flesh.

The shock evaporated and the High Priestess's expression went dark. She smiled cruelly.

"You think to dispose of me so easily?" she asked in a growl. Her green eyes flashed an inhuman red for just and instant, and then the High Priestess's hand exploded through his chest and out his back before he even knew what hit him. He looked down at the limb extending through his chest in shock even as the life ebbed from him.

The High Priestess shoved the corpse off of her outstretched arm, the Priests heart remained in her bloody grasp as the body fell to the ground.

She turned and cast the organ at the feet of the others.

"Have no doubt in who I am, fools!" She glared at them. "Or your fate will be the same."

She drew the weapon from her abdomen and let it fall to the earth.

"My Lady!" One of the men near the back of the assembly cried in horror. "The sacrifices are gone!"

The High Priestess strode through the throng and came to a stop next to the horrified follower.

"You were supposed to watch them," she said in a musing tone. "Were you not?"

The Priest floundered for a moment, trying to stammer a response before the High Priestess reached out and snapped his neck with a quick, violent twist of her bloodied hand.

His eyes went wide in surprise and his body dropped in a heap.

She turned and looked back at the others. "I trust I shall not have to deal with incompetence from any of you a second time?"

In one body, they all began to shake there heads emphatically.

"Good," she nodded. "Now, find them and bring them back before me! Do not return until you do!"

The priests scattered in horror.

Hope reached the river and followed it south as she and Xena had arranged. Her feet were like lead weights and her entire body seemed to feel like she was moving through molasses.

The steady droning of the river was like a soft dull buzzing in her ears and her vision was bleary. With the fading of the adrenalin surge, she felt the weariness in a way she had never experienced before. It almost made her sick to her stomach.

When she finally saw her sister ushering the last of the villagers across a shallow portion of the river, she almost collapsed in relief.

"Head east until you find the next village and let them know what happened, then keep moving," Xena was explaining to the stragglers as they passed her. "You need to stay clear of their path for a time before you can return home."

Hope came to a stop opposite the line of refugees and smiled wearily.

"You look like hell," Xena commented.

"Thanks," Hope replied thickly. "I missed you too."

She studied the faces of the last few survivors and marveled at the gratitude she perceived in their demeanor.

A young mother with a sleeping child grasped her hand gratefully.

"Thank you," she practically cried. "Thank you for saving us."

She didn't know how to respond. Her eyes stayed fixed on the child lying against her shoulder. All the possibilities in that young life, preserved again, for a little while.

The wildest thoughts rampaged through her mind in that moment. Who was this child going to be? Was she looking at the next Socrates, or Alexander? Would he grow up to become a wise and gentle ruler, or a simple farmer, or a horrible dictator? Would he become her greatest ally, or her worst enemy?

She nodded automatically and offered a weak smile in return.

The last of the survivors crossed the river, moving towards the thick forests beyond.

Hope watched them depart until she felt Xena's hand wrap around her arm and spin her around.

"What was that crazy stunt back there?" Xena hissed. "Do you have a death wish or something? I told you to get out of it!"

"I was just trying to buy you as much time as possible," Hope replied. "You needed time to get those people further away."

"I did that!" Xena shot back. "And then I came back for you and told you again to get out! What do you do instead? You take on the whole bunch of them!"

"I took on four," Hope rubbed her head. "And that phony."

"Well that phony kicked your tail!" Xena shot back.

She moved several paces away, her arms folding across her chest.

"If we're going to do this," Xena wheeled on her. "Then you and I need to come to an understanding."

"Understanding?" Hope replied. Her voice dropped a notch and her gaze hardened somewhat.

"Yes!" Xena replied. "As in listening to me when we execute some cock and bull plan like this!"

"It was your plan," Hope said.

"And that means you do what I tell you!" Xena retorted. "You do what I say, when I say, and exactly how I say or someone could wind up dead!"

"Who died and made you Queen of the Gods?" Hope fired back as the insult began to feel like salt in a wound. "I can handle myself!"

"You don't have the control or the experience to handle yourself in a tavern of drunken women, let alone a pack of organized attackers!" Xena said.

"They were hardly organized!" Hope replied angrily. "That rabble couldn't figure out the front side or a formation to save their souls! They weren't worth my time!"

Xena almost shot back with a scathing remark before the words settled in with their full meaning.

"And I've managed to pick up a lot more than you think I have, you know? And your father gave me a whole lot of other tidbits too!" Hope continued angrily. "I'm not some dumb toddler fresh out of the nursery!"

"Say that again?" Xena asked.

"I said I'm not some dumb toddler fresh out of the nursery!" Hope repeated.

"No!" Xena interrupted. "Before that."

Hope frowned. "I said that they couldn't figure out the front side of a formation?"

"I thought that you trained all of your priests in combat?" Xena asked.

"I did," Hope nodded, stepping over to the river and washing the grime from her flesh and armor. "It's pretty obvious that my counterpart hasn't."

"Like they're out of practice," Xena nodded.

"Way out of practice," Hope replied. She paused and looked up at her. "It's like their ability to strategize has been lessoned some how, or,"

"I don't think those particular priests have been involved in active conquest for quite a while," Xena offered.

"No," Hope replied in a far away voice. "It isn't that."

Xena looked back across the river as the last of the survivors vanished into the tall grasses on the opposite bank.

"Well, in either case, we should get moving." She suggested. "Those priests are going to be looking everywhere for those people, and us. We need to get a little further away yet."

The two cleaned up quickly and moved off southward towards the sea, making sure to leave an obvious trail for any pursuers to find.

As they moved, Hope could feel the skin on her back rubbing painfully against the portions of the armor where the embers of the burnt out house had managed to scorch through. She contained the discomfort for as long as she could.

Xena occasionally looked over and checked on Hope as they jogged. After two hours, it was clear that the young woman was in agony.

Xena stopped and took a deep breath. "What's wrong?"

"I'm alright," Hope lied. "Just a little uncomfortable is all." She began working with the fasteners of her upper body armor.

"Let me see," Xena stepped up behind her and helped her release the straps.

She moved behind Hope and lifted her dirty blonde hair aside. She gasped in horror when she saw what had happened.

The armor had done its job, protecting Hope's back, however, the protective layer of leather ended below her shoulder blades, and from that point up to just below her neck, the flesh was scraped raw, blistered and bleeding from burns in several places. Even the ends of her hair were slightly frazzled from being burnt.

"Hope," Xena gasped. "This has got to be killing you."

"It's not so bad," Hope replied. "Now that we aren't moving."

Xena released the catches on either side of the plate and the armor fell away.

"I need to clean this up," Xena went on. "Or this could get infected and that would kill you."

"We might still have trouble behind us," Hope protested as she held her hands up instinctively covering herself.

"We have some time," Xena cut her off. "I have to take care of this."

Xena led Hope to a large flat stone and had her sit down. In her traveling pack, Xena had several long clean rolls of simple white linen. She removed two of these now and, using the first one, she began to gently clean away the dirt and blood from her injuries.

Once the wounds had been cleaned out, they didn't appear so bad, though Hope's flesh was red and raw in many places. The more severe burns were probably going to leave several good sized scars.

"Okay," Xena grimaced. "This is the part you're really not going to like."

She drew out the second roll of linen and began gently wrapping it around Hopes torso, covering the injuries.

While the soft cloth was uncomfortable, it wasn't that bad, and Hope mentioned that.

"I'm not talking about the bandages," Xena replied. "I don't have time to make a poultice to help keep the wounds from getting infected, so I have to use something a little harsher."

"How harsh?" Hope asked.

Xena lifted their small wineskin and pulled the outer layer of linen away from Hope's back, creating a narrow channel across her flesh.

"About this harsh," Xena replied and she poured a generous amount of the wine into the narrow crevice. The wine immediately soaked through the linens and spread across her back.

It felt cool at first, and then the alcohol began to bite and Hope let out a soft hiss.

"Yeah, that's pretty harsh," she said tightly.

"I know," Xena replied sympathetically. "But it's the best we can do at the moment."

She finished her ministrations and lifted the scorched armor chest piece. "If anything, the bandages will cushion your skin from this."

She stopped short as she studied the burnt and weathered portion of the armor. Hope stepped up and both women gasped as they saw the damage vanish, replaced by smooth, clean, crimson leather.

"It's repairing itself!" Hope exclaimed.

"That's impressive," Xena nodded, handing the piece to Hope.

She quickly fastened the piece back to her body and adjusted her weapons.

"Okay," Xena looked back the way they had come and then forward. "We need to head south until we hit the ocean. It should take a couple days. If we can stay ahead of our friends for that long, we should be able to find a ship to take us south towards Imbros, or maybe even Troy. Once we get on the water, we should be far enough away from them to be able to relax for a while."

Hope nodded as she quickly tied her hair into a more manageable pony tail with a narrow leather strap.

"If your back starts hurting too badly, you tell me, okay?" Xena continued. "You've played the tough girl enough for one day."

Hope smiled slightly and nodded.

From that point, the two of them made sure to cover their trail a little better, hoping that the fading of the signs would throw off or, at least, slow down the pursuit they knew was coming.

By the time the sun was falling in a deep orange ball against the western horizon, it was not Hope's injuries, but weariness that brought them to a stop. They set up the remnants of a small false camp and then moved across the river and unrolled their sleeping blankets in a bed of dry reeds within sight of the small crackling fire they had left behind.

The air was damp and chill, and the breeze flowing up from the southern sea sent shivers though their bones in spite of their warm blankets.

Hope hadn't even realized that she had dozed off when she raised her head with a start at the sound of voices on the opposite bank. Her alarm was curtailed momentarily by the fact that she had dropped off to sleep and not fallen into the old nightmares.

Dark shadows moved past the glowing embers of their abandoned fire, looking for them. Hushed voices could be heard on the wind.

Hope looked back towards Xena and found her awake and alert, staring across the river with clear, calculating eyes.

"What if they come over here?" Hope mouthed.

Xena smiled. "Don't worry," she replied silently.

The hushed voices across from them were rising in volume and frustration. There were at least ten of them milling about the opposite bank, and all of them had ideas as to what they should do next.

Hope watched this lack of leadership and discipline, despising it even as she realized their collective stupidity was probably saving their lives.

She looked back at Xena and saw her moving deliberately towards the bank without so much as a rustle in the concealing reeds.

In her left hand, Xena held a small, flat stone.

She stretched forward until her arm and head were out beyond the confining reeds, her eyes always on the figures across the way. With barely an exhale, she whipped the stone back up the way they had come, close to the opposite bank. It skipped twice along the western bank before vanishing in the tall grasses with an obvious rustle.

In one body, all the figures in their false camp turned and looked back north towards the sound.

"Got em!" One of the voices hissed. "Go! Go!"

The whole group surged forward towards the noise.

Xena sat back up quickly and grabbed her blanket. She pointed south. "Let's go," she whispered. "And stay quiet."

Hope was grinning as she quickly gathered her own sleeping roll and the two of them stole away quickly through the grass.

Once they were far enough away, they took to a well worn game path and made good time moving further south.

Xena chuckled quietly. "By the time those morons figure out we didn't double back, we'll be long gone."

Hope smiled but said nothing.

The revelation came several miles later, and it stopped Hope in her track like a dog at the end of its leash.

Xena also stopped and looked back. Hope's expression was one of horror.

"What is it?" Xena asked.

"I think I know who it is!" Hope looked back the way they had come. "I think I know who's leading them!"

She looked skyward. The moon was waxing towards the west, retreating from the coming day. She drew one of her weapons out and tried to examine it in the pale moonlight. After a few moments inspection, she nodded.

"Now I'm certain."

"Well?" Xena asked. "Who is it?"

Hope handed her weapon to Xena. "Atrophis."

Xena frowned and shook her head. "That's impossible. Dad destroyed him years ago." "He beat Atrophis, yes," Hope corrected. "But he only managed to banish Quintis, remember?"

"And it took him this long to come back?" Xena asked.

Hope shrugged. "All I know is that Atrophis has everything that he would need to do something like this. He has no conscience, a desire to dominate, he's a shape shifter so he could make himself look like me and, his touch destroys things."

She nodded towards the sword in Xena's hand. "See for yourself."

"Its fine," Xena replied as she studied the blade.

Hope stepped up and indicated a spot on the edge of the blade. "Right there."

Xena held the weapon closer, angling the edge to take advantage of the feeble light.

In the reflecting moonlight, she spied the subtle discoloration in the steel, like the beginnings of a cancer that could spread through the rest of the metal.

"Okay," She shook her head. "It's a spot."

"The only reason this and my other sword haven't crumbled to dust is for the same reason my armor is still in good shape." Hope explained. "Obviously Entropis did something to them and my armor to protect me from things like this."

Xena handed the sword back to Hope and shrugged. "If it is Atrophis, what does that mean?"

"That Dahok is still moving forward with his plan to conquer the world," Hope replied. "Granted, he's using the battering ram approach now by putting Atrophis in the leader position, but it's better than nothing. At least until he gets someone more suitable."

"And how would he do that?" Xena asked.

"They same way he got me," Hope replied. "He'll take someone's innocence, and then impregnate them like he did with mother."

Hope saw Xena's eyes frost over.

"It's how he gets all of his children, Xena," she finished.

"Okay, so it could be Atrophis," Xena agreed. "What do we do to stop him?"

"Discredit him," Hope replied. "If the priests discover that he really isn't me, they'll abandon him. They might even kill him for us?"

"Before they go back to looking for you," Xena replied.

"Not if I tell them to stop," Hope replied. "I might be able to stop the entire religion before it goes any further."

"This is just one group of priests, Hope," Xena countered. "The religion is a lot bigger than that. You'd have to find pockets of the faith and convince them, destroy temples, all while you have other people looking for you to exact revenge on you before you had your change of heart."

She paused. "And there's one other little thing. There will always be some fanatical followers that won't change their minds. Do you kill them then?"

"If I have to," Hope replied. "Xena, this was my mistake. It's overwhelming and has caused more pain than I can imagine, but it is mine. I have to make it right somehow."

Xena paused for a moment. The words resonated with her deeply. Only a lifetime ago she had been in the same position, looking back on her past and realizing that she had caused more harm than she could ever atone for. Now here she was, with a clean slate, a new life, and her sibling was in the position she had endured. The reversal of fortune struck her as wildly ironical. Hope was in the position of Xena in her past life and she was what - Gabrielle? Was it her destiny this lifetime to play the role that Gabrielle had played for her? Could she even accomplish that?

Hope noticed the wry smile playing at Xena's lips and she frowned. "You think this is funny?"

"In a way," Xena replied. She saw the pained look in Hope's eyes and she cleared her throat. "Not that you caused a lot of trouble," she added quickly. "Just the way some things change."

Hope let a soft growl escape her lips.

"For the moment," Xena added quickly. "We need to find a save haven to regroup, get supplies, and formulate an actual plan. We can't do that here in the middle of this mess."

"Every day we're gone is one more day for Atrophis to cause more devastation," Hope countered. "We can't just run away!"

"We aren't running," Xena resumed moving south along the river. "We're giving ourselves room to breathe."

"Please," Hope rolled her eyes.

Xena stopped and faced her sister again.

"The further we get from him, the more damage he can do on this side of the river," Hope said. "He'll only look for us for so long."

"We need time to formulate a plan," Xena said patiently. "If those villagers we freed do what I know they will, then every village east of the river for miles will be empty when those priests get there. We have time."

The next two days passed without incident until they came to the wide marshy area that led into the ocean. The air was tainted with the smell of salt and gulls wailed in the sky above. In the distance, the unmistakable rumble of the ocean was easily discernable over the regular sounds of nature.

The High Priestess stalked down the line of priests, her green eyes alive with barely contained fury.

"Three days," she hissed. "You have scoured the river for three full days and nights and found nothing."

Several of the priests gulped in fear, but no one said a word.

"The sacrifices to Dahok are gone," The High Priestess continued. "The villages east of the river have been abandoned, and the residents are in hiding. The imposter is still at large, and in spite of having three days to track them, you have not found anything to even point us in the correct direction."

She stopped before the priest who was in charge of the search party.

"You have an explanation, I expect?" she asked in a hiss.

"I have none, My Lady," he said calmly. "I have failed in the task appointed by you. They have eluded our search. I have no excuse."

The High Priestess's eyebrow rose in surprise. "None at all?"

"No, My Lady," the priest said.

The Priest fully expected to die at that moment. Instead, the High Priestess seemed to consider his words and nodded once, turning away.

"I see," she mused. "Very well. We shall continue east to the next village, and if it has not been deserted when we arrive, we will make certain it is deserted when we leave. All those who do not convert shall die."

She looked back at the Priest she had berated. "Would you atone for your failure?" she asked, though it was obvious the offer was more command than request.

"If I am permitted," he replied.

The High Priestess considered for a moment as she paced back and forth.

The priest was tall and powerfully built. In battle he had proven himself skilled in the use of both magicks and the more primitive aspects of combat.

The High Priestess reached into her robes and drew out a narrow bundle of cloth, handing it to the priest.

He unfolded the oil soaked cloth revealing two wicked looking curved swords with short jagged blades.

"Would you become the champion of Dahok, priest?" She asked in an icy voice. "Doing his will and mine in all things?"

The High Priestess began walking slowly around him, her fingers trailing gently along the folds of his robes.

"I would, My Lady," He replied confidently.

You were honest with me, just now," The High Priestess continued. "You know how I reward failure, and still, you were honest. You did not attempt to insult my intelligence with lame excuses, or inane babbling. Can you be the same in all that I command?"

He nodded.

Several of the other priests moved closer to observe the proceedings.

The High Priestess looked the robed figure up and down once more, then placed her hand upon his chest. A soft crimson radiance emanted from her hands, flowing into the body of the priest. His eyes closed in rapture as the power coursed through his limbs.

"You shall be Mortus the Goth, Champion of Dahok," she intoned. "And death shall follow in your wake. The blood of the unconverted shall be your wine."

He was trembling now, and the assembled priests could see the transformation of their colleague in spite of the voluminous robes.

The hair on the champion fell to the ground, his eyes rolling back in rapture.

The High Priestess suddenly reached up and in a vicious move, tore the robes from the figure.

The Goth stood in dark leather breeches and black boots. His muscles were chisled and powerful, his chest moving in deep rhythm as he breathed. His exhalations were more like bestial growls. Thick leather armor covered his biceps, the leather straps crossing over his massive chest.

His eyes slowly opened, now completely devoid of color, shimmering like demonic pearls.

"We have some time before the villagers in the area return to their homes, believing we have moved on. We can use this time to good benefit."

"My Lady?" The Goth growled.

"The imposter," The High Priestess hissed. "When the time is right, you will bring me her head on a plate!"

The Goth gnashed his teeth in what could only be considered something between a smile and a hungry snarl.

"Until then," She turned back to the others. "Find them."

The foliage opened up before them into a wide even stretch of soft sandy ground leading down to the pale blue and foaming white of the sea.

Hope stood there, transfixed by the undulating water for a moment, seeing it in a way she had never seen it before.

The sky was beginning to darken with the setting of the sun, and the wind blowing up from the ocean carried a chill with it.

Hope shivered suddenly. "Okay, what now?"

Xena mused. "Now we find that small port town, just north of here."

Hope nodded absently.

He two of them moved towards the beach beyond and turned northwards for as long as the light held.

Once the blue of the sky had faded to deep purple and the waters had become dark, the two of them stopped and gathered some driftwood to make a fire.

In short order, they had a small fire burning and a meal bubbling merrily in the small traveling pot.

The previous days had been long, and they were both weary. Before they knew it, they had fallen off to sleep.

The chill ocean breeze awoke them in the morning. They sky above was gray and the darker clouds out over the water hung heavily with the threat of rain.

Hope rolled over feeling the cold stiffness in her limbs despite the warm blanket around her. She let out a groan.

"Rise and shine," Xena said cheerfully.

Hope grumbled as she pulled herself out of the blanket and rolled it up.

Xena took some time to make a proper poultice to treat Hope's injuries and they were off again, heading east along the coast.

The waves built and the wind picked up speed. Before midday, the first thick drops of rain began to fall.

Both women drew out old traveling cloaks to help shield them from the storm and trudged on.

"This sucks!" Hope muttered.

They rounded a gentle bend in the coast and discovered a small, well constructed town.

"Yes!" Hope cried. "Something with a roof!"

Xena smiled and looked up at the sky. "Come on. Let's get indoors before it really gets bad."

They settled into the small room just as large droplets of water began hammering on the roof above.

"We timed that one right," Xena said, glancing out at the veritable wall of water falling beyond.

"Well," Hope offered. "On the bright side, there's no way that bunch of priests is chasing us now."

Xena looked at her with a quizzical expression. "What makes you think that?"

Hope gestured to the deluge outside their window.

"Would you give up on the chase so easily?" Xena asked. "You never did before?"

Hope opened her mouth to reply, but hesitated.

No, she would not have given up the search for an enemy, regardless of the obstacle. She might even refocus all of her assets in that pursuit if she felt it were valuable enough, and this creature pretending to be her was probably of the same mind, considering the threat that she represented. She was the lynch pin that could destroy the entire illusion it was attempting to maintain.

"I see your point," She finally nodded, sobering.

"If anything," Xena went on. "We may have brought trouble to this little town by coming here. Those goons will figure it out eventually. If we want to prevent the same thing happening here that happened before, we'll have to take a stand."

At those words, Hopes gaze darkened expectantly.

"Without blowing the entire town off the map," Xena finished sharply.

She stretched out on one of the narrow beds crammed into the room and rested her arm behind her head.

"Let's get a few hours of sleep and then we'll head back along the river and see if they're coming this way. If they are, we'll need to deal with it." Xena said.

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. In a matter of moments she was asleep.

Frowning, Hope lay down on the other bed and stared up that the ceiling. Her mind was filled with images of her past and her present all milling about in her mind like a mad cacophony of images and sounds.

Try as she might, she could not relax enough to drift off to sleep. Instead, her eyes found a small spider spinning a web in the corner of the ceiling and one of the support timbers.

Her eyes settled on the industrious arachnid and she observed it moving deftly as it strung its sticky threads in a delicate silvery spiral.

Her new found emotions also brought with them a new, almost child like curiosity about this world she now dwelt in.

She wanted to now this small reddish brown creature and see what it looked like, how it functioned in this wider world.

As her green eyes peered up at it unblinking, it seemed to slow for a moment, as if distracted, and then it attached another thread and dangled free, descending on its tiny thread right towards Hope's nose.

She didn't react, didn't move at all except to follow the amazing creature with her eyes as it came closer and closer to her face.

Then it stopped above her, hanging a mere foot from her face. The eight tiny eyes in the grotesque face seemed to be contemplating her now as much as she was contemplating it.

In a strange way, Hope found the strange features of the tiny arachnid paradoxically beautiful.

"_Hello,"_ She thought as she studied the small leg splayed out in the air before her.

Its own curiosity apparently sated, the spider rolled up and grasped the silken thread with its front legs, moving effortlessly back up the way it came.

Then a new thought echoed in her mind.

"_Hello?"_

At first she thought it might be the tiny creature retreating from her, but that idea was absurd.

She hadn't even realized that she had drifted off until the familiar walls of the temple formed around her.

Instead of the bloody clamoring mass of self destructive humanity, the place was blessedly silent and empty.

Hope sighed in relief at that. The last thing she wanted to see again was that murderous mob.

The air was filled with the scents of burning oils and smoke as torches bathed the sandstone walls in hues of orange and red. Bronze braziers held coals and shone blood red in the dim light. Here and there, discarded items or personal effects lay where they had fallen, forgotten.

"_This is an interesting retreat for you,"_ the voice came unbidden from the main chamber. _"I would have expected something more…cheery?"_

Frowning, Hope stepped around the corner and into the main hall.

He was her height, though gaunt, almost skeletal, dressed in a dark robe and hood that seemed to enfold him like an extension of shadow.

His red rimmed eyes were almost yellow in the light, with long, catlike pupils that locked on her hungrily. Vestigial horns protruded from either side of his forehead, and when he smiled it was with sharp pointed teeth. His flesh was a mass of scarred tissue from numerous slashes, almost like bites, as if he had at one time been ravaged by a pack of wild animals.

Hope felt her body tensing as she held the inhuman gaze with a hot one of her own.

"_Hello Atrophis,"_ she nodded. _"Been a long time."_

"_Ages,"_ Atrophis replied. _"You know, I expected that you would have returned to father some time ago, and yet, I find you cavorting with the spawn of the people who have been the most annoying in Dahok's plans?"_

Hope shrugged. _"I've been busy, what do you want me to say? Besides, you seem to have everything in hand?"_

Atrophis smiled. _"I do. Or rather, I did all the way up to the point where someone barged in and spoiled my little monopoly."_

"_It was you,"_ Hope nodded. _"Our father has you taking over, does he?"_

"_More or less,"_ Atrophis nodded. _"At least until you came back and resumed your rightful place at the head of the order."_

Atrophis strolled casually across the room, absently fingering various articles as he passed them.

"_The interesting thing is, instead of contacting me and arranging to slip right in, unnoticed, you actually go out of your way to cause trouble."_ Atrophis said. _"Father told me that you had turned, but I preferred to be optimistic and think that you've only lost your way a bit."_

Hope shook her head. _"I used to be lost but I'm not any more."_

"_Really?"_ Atrophis arched an eyebrow in amusement.

He stopped and seated himself in the throne experimentally. _"Fine, here's the bottom line. You come back right now and I won't have to kill you."_

Hope actually smiled at that. _"If I remember, I was always stronger than you."_

"_Not any more,"_ Atrophis snarled. _"Not since you had that encounter with David Forester!"_ He spat the name. _"He infected you with his inferior powers, leaving you vulnerable to me."_

"_And yet, Dahok still wants me to lead the order?"_ Hope countered. She smiled as he understood the simple logic in her argument. _"You sure I'm weaker now?"_

Atrophis stepped from the throne with a swirl of robes and paced away.

"_Understand this,"_ he said. _"If you do not return, I shall hunt you down till the end of your days. You shall never have a moments' peace as long as you live."_

"_Whereas, if I return, I'll have even less peace and become a monster again, just like you,"_ Hope finished. _"Decisions, decisions."_

Atrophis snarled angrily.

"_How about this,"_ Hope countered before he could say more. _"You disband the order and disappear, and I won't hunt you down?"_

"_Do you really think you can do that?"_ Atrophis challenged.

Hope's eyes narrowed and her gaze became cold, critical and calculating. After a moment or two she smiled knowingly.

Something in Atrophis's demeanor changed in that moment. His expression lost some of its confidence, and he actually swallowed a little nervously.

"_Get out of here and think about my offer,"_ Hope said sternly. _"Disband the order, or the next time we meet, you will not live through it."_

Atrophis opened his mouth to speak, but the world blurred and he twisted like a column of smoke, vanishing with a cry of protest.

Hope's eyes snapped open and she breathed in sharply. Her body was covered in a sheen of perspiration and her heart was hammering in her chest.

She sat up and looked over at Xena, sleeping in the bed beside her.

"Xena," she hissed.

Her sister awoke and looked up at her, somewhat bleary.

"It's definitely Atrophis, and he's coming after us."

Xena looked back over her shoulder at the dark night beyond. The rain had stopped and the night noises of the animals mingled with the gentle roar of the nearby surf.

"You're sure?" Xena asked.

Hope nodded. "He's coming after me. He needs to convert me back or eliminate me to consolidate his power."

Hope rose and stepped over to the window, looking out at the slumbering village.

"And I have an idea," she mused. "But we'll need everyone in the village to help out."

Xena rose and stepped over to Hope, studying her closely. Hope's eyes were focused inward as she continued some internal debate.

"I don't know if I like that look," Xena commented.

Hope actually smiled. "Don't worry. I won't blow up the village. I promise."

"Uh huh," Xena nodded. "Okay, let's hear it."

"Let me see if I understand you correctly," Elder Taris said in a dubious tone. "You would have us evacuate our village within a day, solely on your word?"

He was a thin man, wrinkled and gaunt with clear, piercing blue eyes that made Hope uncomfortable when he fixed them on her. His air was calm, almost flippant. His long pale robes seemed overly oppressive on his frame and he was more like something half layered within the woodwork of his chair than actually sitting upon it.

He gestured with one thin hand towards Xena.

"I know we're asking a lot," Xena nodded. "And I wouldn't ask this if I wasn't certain that this village was in danger."

She gazed about the room of the small, meeting room. Here and there, numerous villagers milled or swayed uneasily, their eyes fixed on the debate between their elder and the strange woman.

"The Priests of Dahok are coming this way," Xena went on. "They have already destroyed two villages in the last week, and they will not hesitate to destroy this one, just like they did to Hebrus, unless each and every citizen agrees to convert to their beliefs."

"We are peaceful people, my dear," Taris went on. "What possible motivation could there be for our destruction? We offer no militant threat in this region, we do not possess great wealth or power here. Where is the incentive to do as you suggest they would do?"

"They don't need incentive," Xena countered sharply. "They don't want power, or gold, or military might under their boots." She was losing patience with the old man. "All they want is blood, the blood of your men, women and even your children. It is by your blood that Dahok gains his power."

At those words some of the villagers stirred uneasily. A few mothers clutched infants a little closer.

Still Taris was unconvinced. "There have been other militant groups that have passed through this region. Pirates and other folk often come here across the sea and seek only to avail themselves of our inns and food while traveling to their destinations. I do not believe that these outcast Priests are any different. And if they are so few, as you say, then our own village militia will be more than adequate to dissuade them from attempting anything foolish."

He gestured to two men standing on either side of the entrance. Both were tall, slender, holding long spears and shields, with a short sword at their hips. They had the tools, but it was instantly apparent that they lacked any real military training.

Their eyes held the inexperienced bravado of youthful invulnerability, not the calculation of seasoned soldiers.

"Them?" Hope scoffed before she could stop herself.

Taris raised an eyebrow at her outburst. "You have something to say?"

There was something so condescending, so patronizing in his tone that Hope felt her temper flare. She looked at Xena who subtley shook her head.

"Yes," Hope nodded, stepping over to the two men and looking at them appraisingly. "I have something to say."

In a flash of movement, she kicked one of the gaurds out the door, spun and disarmed the other, smashing his own spear shaft against his forehead. He fell, senseless to the ground. Then the doors slammed shut of their own accord and the brace fell into place.

Hope practically flew across the chamber as the panicked villagers tried vainly to find egress from the place.

Taris barely managed to sit up further when Hope dropped before him, one of her swords at his throat and her blazing eyes bored into his.

"Convince me to spare your life," she hissed like a hunting animal.

"Well, I," Taris stammered.

"Too late!" Hope screamed in rage and raised the sword.

It came whistling down at the elder's head.

At the last moment, the edge slid sideways and sank several inches in the wooden back of the chair, inches from the Elder's ear.

Numerous fists hammered on the sealed door, attempting to force their way in.

With an angry gesture, the cross brace lifted from its place and the doors slammed open. Beyond were no less than a dozen of the village militia, all armed with a variety of edged implements.

Hope screamed at them and the motley group was blown back several yards landing in a heap.

Then she turned back and face Taris, her chest heaving.

"That's a taste of what you have coming!" she bellowed. "They won't show mercy, won't stop and negotiate, won't give you a chance to convince them why they should spare you! They will march through this little village and kill each and every one of you, one by one! Families will watch as their lives are burned to ashes all in the name of a bloodthirsty deity whose sole purpose is to bring the entire world under his control!"

"They are coming, and they will not stop until each and every one of you is converted or dead!" She stepped up and pulled her weapon free of the chair. Taris jerked in fright as the blade slid away from him.

It spun twice and vanished in its sheath as she turned for the door.

"You talk too much," she said tersely to Xena and she strode out of the room in disgust.

To his credit, the old man recovered quickly. He sat up, managing to look indignant and annoyed instead of frightened. "I could have her executed for that!" He said.

It was the first sign of any fire that Xena had seen in the man.

"Really?" Xena asked, raising an eyebrow. "By whom? Do you honestly think there is any one in this village that could actually manage it and survive?"

"I would have preferred to convince you in other ways," Xena said respectfully. "But my sister is right, and we don't have much time."

It took the rest of the night and most of the following day, but the entire village was evacuated, leaving only Xena and Hope to walk the streets making their various preparations.

That evening, Hope was unable to sleep. She gave in to her restlessness and left the inn, walking through the empty streets, lost in thought.

The realization of what David had actually bestowed upon her was only now beginning to sink in, and the power frightened her. She understood its ramifications. It was a source of great potential good, or evil, and if she wasn't careful, the distinction could easily become blurred. Her soul desperately wanted to cry out, seeking some form of divine inspiration or absolution, yet she couldn't think of any deity in particular that would listen.

She could almost hear David's voice, just like all the times they had discussed and debated in her dreamscapes before the death of her mother. She remembered the long tutorials on mercy and charity, kindness and faith.

She suddenly understood why she had been defeated at Hebrus. Atrophis had one thing that she did not. Faith.

Faith in a malicious and sadistic deity, but faith none the less, and that lent strength to his efforts. She was alone, with nothing but herself to believe in.

In the final analysis, that wouldn't be enough.

"_Why not?"_

She suddenly felt his presence next to her, walking in step with her down the darkened street beneath the light of the moon.

"I don't have any faith left," Hope admitted. "I don't know any God or Goddess that would even want to listen to me anyway, even if I did know their names."

"_Bullshit,"_ David replied. _"Faith isn't about who you say your prayers to at night. It's about who you want to believe in you."_

"Want to believe in me?" Hope frowned.

"_Why not?"_ David countered. _"Where do you think the Gods came from anyway? They're only the personification of the things that everyone wants in their lives. Hope, Love, Greed, Envy, Chaos, Harmony, whatever. People couldn't understand why things happened so they invent a God to tame or control it."_

David smiled. _"We think, therefore, they are."_

"I don't understand," Hope looked at him, striding next to her, as much a memory as a physical being.

"_I know you don't kiddo,"_ David replied, smiling. _"You have so much to learn about the world, and yourself. You're in for a wild ride."_

He stopped and took her hands, guiding her to a small bench. She sat as he crouched down, his dark eyes looking up at her with love and concern.

"_The Gods exist to help those who ask for i_t," David explained patiently. He smiled at her. _"Sometimes, the act of asking is all you need. You don't have to know the name of the deity you're talking to. Just talking is enough, and the deity hears and introduces themselves to you. It may not always be the same one every time. There may be a select few, or a large number. They may change over time, as you grow and learn. The point is, they believe in you. You have to believe as they do. When you do that, they can't help but intervene, even going as far as to appear before you as an ally."_

"Kind of like you?" Hope smiled as the old emotion welled up in her again.

"_Me?"_ David smiled, looking around. _"I'm not here, baby."_ He released his grip on her hand and placed his hand gently over her heart. _"I'm here, and I believe in you."_

"I killed you," Hope confessed in a shaky breath.

He smiled. _"Stop carrying that around in here, Hope,"_ he said gently. _"That guilt is a bag of bricks, and it will slow you down. None of us knows the real reason why things happen the way they do, and it's not for us to determine what is right and what is wrong about the acts we commit in our lives."_

"How do I let that go?" She begged. "I know what I did and I know it was wrong! I should be punished for it and I know that!"

"_Did you really?"_ David smiled. _"Did you really beat me?"_

She frowned.

"_I knew,"_ David sated into her eyes. _"When I squared up with you, I knew that I wasn't there to beat you. If I had simply beat you, you would have come back later and done the same thing all over again. I was there to rescue my family."_

"But," Hope began.

"_My __whole__ family,"_ David cut her off. _"Including you."_

"I don't deserve this," Hope admitted. "All these things you gave me. They should have gone to Xena, or Alexander, not to me."

"They went where they would do the most good," David smiled. "And the only way to give them to you was to let them go completely. To pass on everything that I was to someone who could benefit most from it. Xena has a part of me too, but you needed a little more."

Hope let her mind drift back to that fateful day, when she and her stepfather were locked in combat. The final exchange that had cost David his life. He had feigned weariness, baiting her so he could get in. She raised her weapon to stab down through his chest. It was a simple move, reckless to the point of stupidity. The kind of maneuver that only a fool would use.

In a moment of revelation, she had an image of the deceptive David, slashing sideways, knocking her blade aside before he ran her through the heart. It would have so easy for him to do it as well. She knew that much about him.

He knew what was to come, and he had stayed focused on his non lethal target, regardless of the cost to himself. Her hand drifted to the spot on her left side, where his blade had punctured her flesh. Not a deep or dangerous wound but just enough to provide the conduit he required.

There was a look in his eyes, that at the time could have been defiance, but in retrospect, it was a gleam of victory. The look in the eyes of a man who knows he has defeated a foe greater than the opponent he faced. He had not beaten her. In one moment of supreme sacrifice, he had defeated a God and reclaimed a member of his family.

Her eyes went wide with realization.

"_You are as much my daughter as Xena is,"_ David smiled. _"I don't think you ever truly understood that. You did what you had to do, just like I did, and I gave you what you needed. You didn't take anything from me."_

She felt his lips kissing her forehead lovingly, like a father would. Felt his hands, strong and reassuring, holding hers.

"_You have everything you need,"_ he smiled at her. _"Now you take that and do what we Foresters always do. You kick ass and take names, and do it because it's the right thing to do."_

The emotion rose in her like a torrent. All the guilt, the anguish, the internal torment manifesting itself in unstoppable sobs that shook her body through to her very soul. When she looked up at him he was smiling at her. His hand caressed her cheek.

"_I believe in you, Hope,"_ he said. _"I believe in you."_

She sat in the dark street weeping till the first rays of dawn spilled over the hills behind her.

Her eyes turned upwards towards the rays piercing the cloudy pale sky. And that familiar pressure began to build in her chest again.

The words came from her, like a prayer, even as she understood that she didn't know to whom she spoke.

"Please," she whispered. "Help me. I don't know who you are, or if you're even listening, but if you are, please help me get through today."

The light of the sun washed over her, and in that bath of gold and fire, she felt more than heard the proclamation. "I am with you."

Her eyes opened and the world snapped into clearer focus than she could ever remember. It was as if a veil had been lifted from her eyes. A weight upon her shoulders that she hadn't even realized she carried, fell away and in an instant, any weariness she bore was gone, replaced by an inner fire that burned away the guilt and sorrow, leaving in its wake something that she could only mark as joy.

Something tickled the edge of her mind, like an intrusive spider walking along the strands of her thought. Atrophis was coming.

She turned and ran back toward the inn.

Xena was coming out the front door as Hope ran up.

"Where have you been?" she asked.

"I need to work a few things out," Hope replied.

There was a fiery, almost exuberant light in Hopes eyes. Xena frowned as she recognized this.

"Did you?" She asked. "Work it out?"

Hope nodded

They returned to the common room and gazed out the window of the Inn. They both managed to get a quick bite to eat as they watched for the first signs of the enemy.

"You remember the pattern?" Xena asked.

Hope nodded. "I remember."

The entire village had been laced with a variety of booby traps designed to incapacitate the enemy.

"Three, one, two, four, two, and out," Hope continued, referring to the safe path back through the narrow streets.

Xena nodded.

The two of them perked up as the first of the priests, with the evil doppelganger emerged from the grasses further down the beach. Beside the imposter was a new figure, massive and knotted with muscle, staring ahead with pale, lifeless eyes.

"What the hell is that?" Xena asked.

Hope stared at the evil twin and her eyes narrowed. There was something almost insulting about Atrophis utilizing her appearance.

"If I can get him to overexert himself," she offered. "He won't be able to maintain the illusion of being me. If I can force him to change back, the whole ruse is over."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Xena asked, drawing her sword.

Hope smiled. "Like this."

She turned and headed for the door.

"You can't go out and meet them," Xena hissed. "That whole street is lined with our traps!"

"Exactly," Hope smiled back. "I'll draw them in."

Xena growled in frustration. "Just be careful!"

Hope looked back and smiled. "I will. I promise."

She turned and exited the Inn through a side door and moved to her first position amidst the abandoned buildings.

Atrophis, in the guise of Hope, strode at the head of his priests, his eyes scanning the village before him. Beside him, the Goth growled impatiently, hungry for carnage. All was unusually quiet to him. Nothing larger than a cat could be seen moving.

Just as he was about to say something, a door in one of the buildings opened and Hope stepped into view, striding out to meet them.

She moved slowly, deliberately, her eyes never leaving his as she measured him up.

Slowly, Hope drew her weapons.

"Give up!" she called to them. "You have no chance here!"

Atrophis snorted. "I thought you would say, No Hope."

Then he saw her subtly motion to one of the small huts. A simple, subtle staying gesture.

"Oh no," She smiled again. "Hope is right here!"

The villagers were still here hiding in their hovels like pigs in a stall. He smiled.

"Do you truly believe you can protect all those people, just you and that half bred brat you now call sister?"

Hope paused by the last building. She gazed coldly at the priests. "You followed that here? You guys desperate or really that stupid?"

That statement, so simple and yet so filled with dark confidence caused many to look between the two figures with growing uncertainty.

Hope made a dismissive gesture, indicating the town behind her.

"There's nothing for you here." She smiled and turned away totally unconcerned, strolling back towards the central inn. "This village is mine, and its people are under my protection." She finished as a parting shot.

That statement got a response from the figure posing as her twin.

Atrophis's stolen features curled into a snarl. "Kill her!"

Six of the more ambitious priests charged after her.

They came at her in a line instead of trying to overwhelm her en masse.

Hope spun around and met each one with a vicious counter move.

The first priest received a quick jab to the nose and then a roundhouse, sending him sailing through the door of a nearby hut.

As the door opened, the trip wire holding the severed beam pulled its small pin free and the section of wood swung down and struck the floundering priest from behind. He was propelled forward into a second vertical timber and then fell with a crunch, unconscious.

The weakened structure came down around his limp form with a crash. Dust billowed out and obscured the view of the remaining priests.

The apparent nature of the building collapse concerned the priests greatly, recalling the last time the young woman had expressed her rage.

Suddenly a second priest vanished into the deeper portion of the settling dust, only to be flung out, senseless into the street.

Then the third and the fourth priests met a similar fate before the remaining two could begin to pierce the gloom.

They saw the shape of the young woman, leaning casually against another building, several yards back, absently cleaning dirt from beneath her fingernails with the point of one of her swords. She hardly appeared taxed in any way, with only a fine layer of dry dust covering her body.

The two men exchanged an anxious look.

Hope considered the two priests before her, cocking her head to the side slightly, like the two men were sides of beef, and she was determining where the best cuts would be.

The two men gave another cry, more fearful than fierce, and charged in unison.

Hope struck the first in the chest and then sent him reeling into another structure.

He crashed into the central support and dropped to the floor as the heavy barrel balanced above, crashed down upon him.

The last one was large, furious, and attacked with desperation. Hope's elbow impacted his jaw and he fell senseless to the ground, sprawled out before her.

Hope looked back up at Atrophis and grinned.

"Any of your men enter here and they will not return," she said. She turned and with a wave, disappeared around a corner.

Atrophis felt his blood boiling and he fought to maintain both his anger and the illusion of his appearance.

"Tear this village apart!" he hissed. "Find her and bring her to me, alive if possible, dead if necessary!"

The Goth took a step forward, snarling.

"Not yet," Atrophis caught his massive arm.

The remaining followers, some hundred in all, surged into the village with screams of rage.

Atrophis watched as his forces entered the village and began the hunt. A short time later, the cries started.

They weren't the sounds he usually heard. Instead of the horrified screams of the dying and the begging of the cowards, he began to hear startled exclamations that were cut quickly short, the occasional loud bang, and sometimes a small puff of debris or dust.

The cries, he quickly realized, were those of his own men as they fell, singly or in small groups. They didn't come from any one direction, however, but were scattered about the village, as if Hope were somehow managing to be several places all at once.

"What's happening!" he cried in fury.

The panicked screams of his priests slowly faded to silence. Here and there, he caught subtle shadows, moving amidst the thick dust and debris obscuring his vision.

Finally, the last scream of his men stopped with dreadful abruptness and the village once again fell silent.

Then a voice, filled with malicious glee, drifted across the wind. "I told you so."

With a bellow of rage, Atrophis flung his arms out. The homes on either side of him exploded in splinters of timber and steel, raining down around him.

"Where are you, little bitch!" he roared.

"Come and find me!" she replied with a laugh.

Again, structures erupted in his rage as he and his bodyguard stalked forward, leveling everything in their path.

Xena moved through the abandoned town, here and again, securing the priests rendered unconscious by their myriad of devices.

She could hear the exchange between her sister and the doppelganger.

"Don't push it," she cautioned quietly as she looked in the direction of the inn.

She winced when several homes dissolved in clouds of debris as Atrophis bellowed after her angrily.

"Don't level the town," she gritted her teeth. "Please?"

She tied up the latest victim and jogged closer to the confrontation.

She saw Hope emerge from one of the alley's further down.

She looked up at Xena in surprise and then smiled broadly.

Xena fixed her with a glare that demanded an explanation for the collapsed buildings. Hope merely shrugged, grinning and turned away, jogging further down to the next street.

Then Xena heard that malicious giggle emanate from her again.

Sighing, Xena slung the latest priest over her shoulders and trudged doggedly to their meeting point.

Hope paused in between two structures, listening for her evil brother's movement. It wasn't hard to miss. The sounds of his bellows and the breaking of buildings preceded him.

"Almost got him," Hope mused. She moved to the second locale that they had chosen for this little deception.

"Come on!" she called down the alley, knowing that the buildings would mask the direction her voice seemed to come from.

She ducked down a side street that led back to a point where she would be able to confront Atrophis again and add more fuel to the fire.

Atrophis stalked through the streets, his very blood boiling with rage. The dust of destruction settled around him, blotting out the side streets and alleys after a few meters.

Then he saw her, emerging from the haze like a specter, standing in the center of the street, her weapons drawn and held at her sides.

"What's the matter, sister?" Atrophis growled in a deep inhuman voice. "Afraid to face me?"

Hope began pacing back and forth on the street, her eyes darkening to serious murder as she fixed on him.

Atrophis locked his eyes on her and stalked forward, hands curled into hunting talons, his stolen face leering hungrily.

There was a momentary flash and the features of Atrophis flashed, inhuman and devilish before returning to the countenance of Hope's face.

"That's what I needed to see," Hope thought. She strode forward to meet him, her weapons swinging loosely in her grip.

Atrophis pointed at Hope. "Take her!" He commanded.

The Goth let out a blood curdling bellow and drew his two swords, marching forward

"Come on!" The Goth bellowed. He charged forward, his face leering in mad fury. His footfalls sounded like thunder on the ground.

Hope met him at full charge and the two of them collided in a flurry of swings and blocks, legs and arms striking and counter striking as each tried to assert an advantage over the other. They spun apart and Hope felt the Goth's booted foot slam into her chest, knocking her back several yards. She caught her breath and kipped up to her feet, swinging he own weapons in a tight series of arcs before her.

"Not bad," she smiled. She winked at Atrophis and then darted away, running deeper into the village.

Atrophis stared after her, his eyes wide in disbelief. A blow that devastating should have done some injury, and yet she had merely brushed it off and smiled. The Goth looked back at him, equally befuddled.

"What are you waiting for?" Atrophis bellowed. "Get after her!"

Hope ran down a narrow street and ducked into a small recess between two wooden buildings. The momentary rush of endorphins had faded and she began to feel the pain of the injuries. She leaned against the wall, gasping as she felt the iron bands of pain tightening around her torso.

"I can do this," she hissed behind gritted teeth.

Xena was suddenly at her side.

"What the hell is that thing?" she said quickly, looking back around the corner in case the massive warrior should appear.

"The Goth," Hope replied. "Kind of a bodyguard. Something we can bestow upon a particularly devoted follower."

She leaned her head back as she wrestled to loosen the fastenings on her armor.

"And they kick like a mule," she finished, groaning.

Xena pulled the armor aside and saw the tell tale bruising.

"He may have cracked a rib or two," she deduced.

"Yeah," Hope nodded. "Maybe."

The Goth's massive bulk appeared at the end of the street, his pale eyes scanning the surroundings.

"Close it," Hope instructed, breathing a little easier.

"You can't go up against that!" Xena hissed. "Forget this. We need to pull back and figure something else out!"

Hope shook her head.

"This is no time to be an idiot!" Xena whispered angrily.

Her voice faded when she saw the look in Hope's eyes.

It was in that gaze that Xena understood. Hope needed to do this. It was something she had to face. Even though she knew that the figure posing as her was not her, it represented a facet of her that she was desperate to purge. It was a demon that she alone could exercise.

"Okay," Xena continued quickly as she re-fastened Hope's armor. "He's bigger and stronger than you, so don't try and stand toe to toe with him."

Hope nodded.

"He's powerful, so he's going to try for the quick kill. One blow to knock you senseless and then he'll snap your neck or run you through." She looked down at the figure again nervously. "Use your size and speed. In and out, nothing fancy. Bait him and lead him to the theater, right?"

Hope nodded again. "Got it."

Xena finished and stepped away. Hope caught her arm and the two locked eyes for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Hope said suddenly. "I had no right to take your father away from you, and I,"

Xena put her hand over Hope's. "Stop."

Hope felt the dejection beginning to fester in her heart again. Then Xena did something she never expected.

She wrapped an arm around Hope's neck and hugged her almost fiercely. The she drew back and held a finger up in warning.

"You do what I told you, sis," she said. "Don't try and fight him on his terms or I'll kick your ass myself! Get him and Atrophis to the theater, then we'll deal with them together, right?"

Hope looked into Xena's eyes and finally saw the familial connection she had needed without ever knowing she needed it.

"Right," Hope agreed.

Xena gave Hope's shoulder a reassuring squeeze and looked around the building again at the massive creature.

"Right."

Hope looked around the corner at the massive figure. Her eyes scanned the street, seeking inspiration.

Atrophis came into view, standing beside his bodyguard.

A strange smile began to pull at Hope's lips as an idea began to percolate. She had to hit them quickly – had to wear them down and keep them moving in the necessary direction.

She pulled herself onto the low roof of the building and began moving stealthily towards the two hunters.

Then she charged, sprinting along the edge of the wall and launching herself through the air at the two figures, attacking from behind.

The Goth saw the shadow, turning just in time to feel one of Hope's swords bite into the flesh on the top of his shoulder.

At the same instant, Atrophis felt the point of her second weapon bite into his chest, not deeply, but the pain was acute.

Both cried out in surprise, wheeling away from the attack.

Then she was past them, landing on the ground and rolling away, coming up in a crouch, looking back at them.

Hope turned to face them, and she smiled.

"You two are pathetic, you know that?" she taunted.

Atrophis's hand covered the wound in his chest, his stolen features melting away as his anger grew. His lips parted in a snarl and he roared at her in fury.

The Goth was even less subtle. The bellow that erupted from him was filled with uncontrollable rage, pure and powerful. He charged at her, his arms flailing, weapons swinging madly.

Hope stood her ground, watching the behemoth as it charged. The Goth raised his weapons for a stroke intended to split her in two.

She slipped aside at the last moment and slashed up, opening a long wound in the attacker's right side, and then she fled down the nearby alley.

She stopped and turned long enough to taunt them one more time.

"Too slow!"

The Goth went berserk, stomping after her, his arms clearing any obstruction in the narrow space, occasionally passing through the walls of the buildings on either side.

Hope sprinted down the alley, easily vaulting a gate and then ducking into the yard of one of the more affluent dwellings.

There against the wall in the small covered work area, she found her bow and a quiver of arrows. She notched one quickly and waited, listening to the approaching destruction.

A thought dawned on her. Where was Atrophis? His bodyguard was more than obvious with his approach.

A soft cloud of dust fell from the ceiling above, and Hope saw the unmistakeable depression of the wood.

She raised the bow, drew and released.

The arrow punched through the wooden slats and Hope heard a satisfying howl of pain as something thumped to the ground, rolling and thrashing.

She dropped the bow and darted out the front of the building, sprinting the last distance tot eh small but sturdy village ampetheater.

Like all structures of its kind, the ampetheater was built into the face of a nearby rocky hill. A masterpiecve of old Roman stonework, maintained by the fishing village's people for use in the occasional festival.

Hope darted down the stone entrance, slamming the thick wooden gates behind her after making sure that one of them saw her enter the place.

Xena came running back from the main arena to join her.

"Nice work!" she gasped as she dropped the cross brace into place to bar the gates. "How do you feel?"

"Tired and sore," Hope countered. "And I have them both really pissed!"

They ran back towards the large circular open air arena that made up the center of the theater.

Xena led hope back towards the opposite side of the arena.

"Everything ready?" Hope asked as they knelt next to Xena's supplies.

Xena handed her another bow and then drew one of her own, notching another arrow to the string.

"Ready as we'll ever be," She nodded.

The gate thundered suddenly s the Goth hammered against the timbers.

Both women started at the sound. It echoed through the narrow stone tunnel like a roll of thunder.

"You really did piss him off," Xena commented.

The two of them moved to the center of the arena and knelt down, drawing back on their bows.

The gate exploded inwards in a shower of deadly splinters. Both of them dove out of the way, effectively losing any chance at taking down one of their attackers quickly.

Atrophis stood t at the opposite end of the tunnel, leering furiously at them, while the Goth bellowed and charged into the arena, weapons swinging.

Xena and Hope charged at the attacker, crying with equal fury.

Suddenly, Xena felt something blast into her chest, sending her sailing back away from the battle.

Atrophis stepped into the arena and waggled a finger chidingly at her. "I don't think so."

"Xena!" Hope cried out in alarm. Then she was forced to defend herself.

The Goth's heavy weapon whistled down at her, she raised her own weapons up in defense, felt the impact and then she was down on one knee as the descending blade continued through her defense.

She rolled away even as she felt the dark steel bite her flesh. The gritty sand of the arena floor bit into the fresh wound, sending rivulets of agonizing pain through her body. She did her best to ignore it and continued rolling, coming back up on one knee only to be greeted by another savage blow of the Goth's weapon. Then another, and another as the brute hammered at her with complete abandon.

She blocked one blow, then a second, and then a third, each time feeling like she were being hammered into the very earth.

The shock of the impacts sent pain ricocheting through her arms. Finally, she dodged and stabbed upward, watching as her blade pierced the monster's chest.

The Goth dropped one of his weapons and cried in agony. The meaty hand reached down, wrapping around her blade and pulling it free of his body even as the edge cut into his hand.

With a violent twist, the sword was wrenched from her fingers as she was thrown clear again.

Xena back stepped quickly away from Atrophis as he attacked again. The High Priestess snatched up the Goth's fallen weapon and swung the blade at Xena's throat.

She blocked it with her own weapon and countered.

It was in this guise that Xena felt all the old predjudices reawaken. Here before her was the image of the creature that had killed her father, broken her mother's heart, destroyed her very life.

The rage, so long suppressed, suddenly reawakened, directed at this new foe.

With a scream, she attacked with renewed vigor.

The High Priestess, taken aback by the intensity of the assault, countered and then thrust a hand forward. The spell propelled Xena back, slamming her against the nearby stone wall.

She bounced and fell flat.

"No!" Hope cried. She leapt up, swinging her remaining weapon desperately. The weapon found the Goth's neck, slicing into it neatly.

The beast staggered back, dropping its remaining weapon as its hands grasped at the wound, attempting to stem the flow of blood.

She landed behind the man and thrust upwards into the massive back. The blade punched through the flesh easily, erupting from the chest on the other side, slicing the heart in two.

The Goth went still for a moment, looking down at the intruding weapon in shock. Something like a soft whimper emanated from its throat. It convulsed once as Hope withdrew the blade and then fell lifeless to the sand.

Hope spun and threw her remaining weapon with all her might.

It whistled through the air at its target.

Atrophis looked up and saw the incoming weapon. He batted it aside as he dodged, barely missing getting skewered by it.

Hope screamed at him. The energy of her spell sent the High Priestess flying back against the stone in similar fashion to Xena, mere moments before.

Hopes breath was rasping, the fury burning through her veins tinted the world a violent shade of red.

"Leave my sister alone!" she hissed like a viper. She scooped up her other weapon and stormed after the imposter.

The High Priestess smiled and stepped forward to meet her. Their weapons struck so hard that sparks exploded from the contact.

The weapons sang, glittering in the waning light like flashes of fire. A scream began somewhere in the depths of Hope's being, rising in pitch and fury as she swung her weapon.

The wicked blade of her opponent didn't matter to her. There were time she knew that the blade had touched, she saw the blood from the fresh wounds and still, she did not stop.

Suddenly, The High Prietsess's weapon went spinning off into the air.

With a cry, Hope reversed her weapon, spinning in a vicious cut aimed at her opponents neck.

The High Priestess met her blade with bare hands.

Once again, the blade failed to bite, and once again, Atrophis looked at the steel in surprise. It was as if he were expecting something to happen at his touch.

He spun quickly and lashed out with his other hand, raking the nails across Hope's armored midsection. The leather tore like linen and Hope felt the nails bite into the outer layers of her flesh. She spun away and dropped to a defensive crouch.

"Interesting," he commented with a cruel smile. Then his gaze darkened as the enchanted armor repaired itself with the same speed as it had been damaged. "There's only one person I know that can make armor and weapons like this."

Hope's anger faded suddenly into an expression of surprise.

"Where is Entropis?" Atrophis demanded. "You tell me, and I'll kill you both quickly."

Hope's fury reasserted itself and she spun back in on the attack, her sword slashing through some of the robes Atrophis wore.

Atrophis ducked clear and smiled, holding the torn fabric.

"Impressive," Atrophis taunted. "You have skill, yes. You even have some power. But you have no discipline at all!" Atrophis leapt in again, striking with lightning speed. This time, Hope did not retreat so much as get beaten back.

The ground jumped up and hit her in the side of the face as she landed hard on the packed earth.

This time it took a few moments longer to get to her feet, and she felt the trickle of blood at the corner of her mouth.

"That's enough," she thought.

She was tired, beaten , and bloodied. The very thought of moving her limbs burned her with pain.

"Father," she coughed. "I can't!"

"_Get up!"_ a voice called in her mind.

She turned her bleary gaze in the direction of the command and saw him standing there, his eyes ablaze, arms out.

"I can't," she gasped.

"_Can't?"_ David replied, his expression growing stern. _"Can't? There's no such fucking word! Get up!"_

"It hurts," Hope rasped. "It hurts too much."

"_Get on your feet!"_ David ordered her. _"Quick carrying those fucking bricks and get on your goddamned feet!"_

He stepped over to her and put a hand under her arms. She could almost feel his breath, hot against her neck.

"_I gave you what I gave you so you could do what I did for our family, and that is protect them from shitheads like that!"_ he said angrily. _"You got more of me than you ever knew! Now quick acting like an undeserving little wuss! Get pissed, get up and use what I gave you!" _

She could almost feel him trying to raise her to her feet.

"_Look at him!" _David went on_. "He's standing there wearing your face and fucking with your family! Now get up!"_

The High Priestess stood over her, the expression on her stolen face was proud, triumphant, and filled with arrogance. The sight of her own countenance, staring at her and all she loved with such contempt lit a fire somewhere deep in her heart.

"_GET UP!"_ David roared

Her anger rose to the surface as she got to her feet and she looked up at Atrophis, standing triumphantly before her.

Hope stretched out her hands and let the power flow up through her feet and out her hands in a vicious white hot blast of energy. She screamed at the sensation of liberation that the energy gave her as it pulsed through her body.

It was her own energy, her own power, and yet, it felt different, cleaner, more pure than anything she had ever experienced in her life.

Atrophis responded by lashing out with his own assault. The two powers exploded between them, sending them both tumbling backward in another cloud of destruction.

Atrophis got to his feet, his chest heaving as he sucked in the dusty air. The power within him was lessened by the exchange. He glared through the rubble and dust with rage.

Hope rolled over and looked back at the specter standing in tattered robes amidst the latest circle of devastation. Atrophis was wide eyed, like a madman, his hands flexing like claws, the stolen features on his face were locked in an expression of complete fury.

The scream that issued from his throat began with feminine cadence and quickly dropped to an unearthly bellow as he stalked forward, gathering speed like a juggernaut.

"Got him," Hope realized. She got to her feet, stumbled wearily a few paces before gaining the inertia she needed to actually manage a running gate.

She bowled into him, knocking him to the ground, her rage exploding as her fists fell again and again, smashing the face of the imposter before her. She was like an animal, the sensation was raw, powerful and intoxicating. The pain was drowned in that flood of emotion.

Even as her blows fell, Atrophis lost control of his illusion and the face of Hope vanished, replaced with the semi demonic features of her evil brother.

The melee ceased, though Hope's anger did not dissipate. She stopped pummeling his face and struggled to her feet, stepped over to retrieve one of her weapons and knelt atop him again. Her eyes were wild, filled with fury.

"I banish you, Atrophis, son of Dahok!" she said in a hoarse voice, raising her weapon. "You shall not walk this earth again!"

The sword descended and punched through his chest.

A blinding white light exploded from the wound and the demon writhed in agony before vanishing in a flash leaving only a blackened stain on the sands and Hope's weapon imbedded in the ground.

The emotions were a tumult in her belly, roiling like a stormy ocean. She gazed through the settling debris and began to see the shapes of the priests they had trapped and ensconsed in the shadows of the theater, to witness this event.

Her anger boiled afresh and she stumbled to her feet.

Xena was pulling herself up. The two locked eyes for a moment and Xena's expression was one that blended concern and amazement in equal measure.

Hope held her arms out, looking up at the myriad of faces.

"Do you understand now?" she asked angrily.

Her rage rekindled as she looked at the frightened, expectant faces of her former followers.

Several of them began to chant the name of Dahok, as if it were a prayer.

"Dahok is gone!" Hope screamed at them. "His religion is gone!"

She stalked back and forth, fixing each of them with a look of utter contempt.

"No more!" She cried. "No more conversions! No more sacrifices! The cult of Dahok is finished!"

She pointed a finger and swept it across the gathering.

"I know you all," she said in a tight, wavering voice. "Go home, live lives, attempt to right those wrongs commited in the name of a false God! For if you do otherwise, I swear by my father that I will hunt each and every one of you down and repay you in kind for your actions!"

Some of the assembled began edging towards exits.

Hope erupted in fury. "GO!" she screamed.

A blast of wind blew through the ampetheater, emanting from Hope in a hot gust of rage.

Xena stepped over to Hope, watching as the young warrior's eyes went from rage to tear filled regret. The emotion broke, and Hope began to sob uncontrollably before she collapsed to her knees, doubled over in anguish.

Those priests who had managed to free themselves turned and fled, abandoning their companions to whatever fate was left them.

Xena stepped over by the stricken form of her half sister and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. She felt her own tears stinging her eyes as she watched this completely repentant individual, finally overcome by the emotions she had been denied for most of her existence.

Hope reached up, clutching Xena with the desperation of a frightened child, the sobs coming hoarsely now, even though they showed no signs of stopping.

"It's okay," Xena said, wrapping her arms around Hope, careful to avoide some of the more serious scrapes and cuts. "It's okay sis."

Even as she said the word, she suddenly realized that she meant it. Hope was as much a part of her family as Alex had been, as much as Gabrielle had been, in the role of her mother, as much as her father, David.

"It's alright, sis," she repeated gently.

That acknowledgement, simple as it was, only redoubled Hope's weeping for a time.

Her bloodied fingers bit into Xena's armor, holding to her desperately, as if she feared Xena would vanish at any moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Epilogue**

The sun was piercing the canopy of leaves in a myriad of golden shafts, sparkling as the gentle breeze massaged the trees. The air was filled with the rustling of lush foliage and the sounds of bird song.

They had been walking for two days now and the pain of their wounds had subsided to a dull, but constant ache.

"Don't destroy the village," Xena chided, smiling. "I told you not to destroy the village."

Hope grinned, looking thoughtful. "Well, technically, I didn't destroy the village."

"What?" Xena laughed. "Twelve homes, one warehouse and a tannery, not to mention the damage to the theater."

"All true," Hope nodded. "But I didn't do it."

Xena looked sidelong at her sister.

"Okay," Hope admitted with a shrug. "The theater and some of the little stuff in the streets, I'll take credit for."

"How gracious," Xena snickered.

"The other stuff was a direct result of that brute and Atrophis." Hope finished in a matter-of-fact tone. "Now, how was I supposed to keep them from damaging the town?"

She turned and jabbed a finger at Xena. "And let's not forget, the first house that collapsed was your fault."

"My fault?" Xena's eyebrows rose.

"You set the trap up," Hope nodded. "And when that guy went in, it brought the whole house down on him. Now you can't blame me for that."

Xena shrugged slightly, glancing at the surroundings. "I can try."

"Failed!" Hope countered, laughing.

They fell silent for a while. For a long time, the only noise was their foot falls on the path.

"What's it feel like?" Xena asked suddenly.

Hope looked up at her questioningly.

"Having my father's power." Xena finished, looking at her. "How does it feel?"

Hope frowned and her expression became introspective.

"It's frightening at times," she admitted. "There's so much of it. He was incredibly powerful, for a mortal." Hope smiled slightly. "Sometimes, it's like he's an extension of me, almost like my conscience, you know? Everything he felt, everything he knew, his beliefs, all of it."

She looked over and saw the subtly hurt expression on Xena's face.

Hope reached up and put a hand on Xena's shoulder. The Warrior Princess smiled softly and tried to mask her internal pain. She had been close to her father, and his loss, even though it had been years past, still hurt her deeply.

"It's like having him with you?" Xena surmised.

"Not like he's walking beside me, no," Hope shook her head. "More like remembering a life with him, like I grew up in your home with you."

"But you didn't," Xena replied. "Grow up in our house with us."

"I know," Hope said. "It's like having the feelings, but not having the memories. I can't think of any better way to describe it."

They entered the small hamlet, here and there several people went about their personal business. Several children played in the center of the path, splashing in a mud puddle and laughing musically.

The two women gave the children a wide berth even as one of them jumped, stomping two feet in the center of the depression and sending a small geyser of dirty water in all directions.

The small shop, with its sturdy little cabin and covered work area rested at the end of a side path. Smoke rose lazily from the hole in the center of the open air work place.

Entropis walked out of the cabin, wiping his hands on an old rag. His narrow face broadened into a smile.

"Well there," he greeted them warmly. "The conquering hero's return."

Hope embraced the older man and laughed.

"How are you?" He asked them.

"I need to talk to you," Hope said, drawing her weapons and setting them on the bench.

Entropis looked the weapons over carefully and found the minor damage to the blades.

"Not too bad," he said critically. "I can probably smooth those out for you."

Hope looked at him closely. "You knew," she nodded. "You knew that Atrophis had taken my place and you knew we would end up facing him. So you gave me these to make sure I had a chance."

He smiled. "I suspected."

"How did you know?" Xena asked.

Entropis shrugged. "The children of Dahok are no where near as numerous as they used to be," he replied easily. "And of those who do remain, there are precious few with the ability to complete the task he set before you." He nodded to Hope and smiled. "Atrophis was one of his stronger children, so it seemed only logical that he would be chosen by Dahok to continue your work."

"How did you know what he could do?" Hope asked, indicating the weapon s and her armor. "How did you understand his powers so completely?"

Entropis smiled and a soft chuckle emanated from him. "It is in his name, my dear."

He looked at the two confused expressions and nodded.

"Atrophis and I have very similar powers," Entropis explained. "We can destroy the things that come into contact with us by simply speeding up the natural processes of decay." He set one of the weapons in a small clamp, edge up and again inspected the blade.

"His talent had to do with speeding the decay of things if they were neglected," He explained. "Whereas my talent is slightly different. Mine deals with the decay of things over time, no matter what you do to stave it off."

He focused on the weapon and pinched the edge between his thumb and forefinger, tracing them along the edge from the hilt to the tip slowly.

As the girls watched, the weapon simply smoothed over and repaired itself beneath his fingers. He finished and lifted the weapon to Hope for inspection. The edge gleamed in the sunlight.

Then he did the same with the other one.

"You see," he went on. "In many ways, it is within our names that our destinies are actually written and that our powers are bestowed. Just as Atrophis and I were given power in accordance to our names, so were you and your sister. Your names were the most important aspects of your coming into being."

He smiled and stepped around the bench.

"In that respect, your mother saved you both."

Xena and Hope looked at each other in surprise.

Entropis smiled and gestured to a small table and bench near the edge of the covered work area. He set out a flagon of wine, three sturdy wooden cups, and a small wooden tray of bread and cheese.

"You see," he went on. "To name a thing is to grant power to a thing, you understand?"

They both nodded.

"And your names are both very, very powerful," Entropis continued.

Xena and Hope exchanged a look, confused.

"I can understand Hope," Xena admitted. "But mine?"

"Yours especially, Xena," Entropis smiled as he filled their mugs. He sat down and looked at the two of them appraisingly.

"Your sister's is just a little more obvious."

He looked at Hope as his fingers curled around the cup. "In your name was the last hope for Dahok to command the world. He put everything he had into you, but he was not able to name you."

"Why not?" Xena and Hope asked at the same time.

"Ah, that was your fault," Entropis looked at Xena and smiled. "Well, the _old_ you anyway."

"I don't understand?" Xena replied.

"That makes two of us." Hope agreed.

Entropis smiled knowingly. "Come, come, Xena. I know that you have been reincarnated into this life. The idea of someone returning in a life so closely resembling the one departed is rare, but not unheard of."

"How do you know so much about me and my past?" Xena's eyes narrowed.

"It was made known to me," Entropis replied easily. "The moment I saw you."

"It what?"

"The passage of time is at the very heart of what I am, Xena, so I recognize it in all aspects. Mankind is an open book to me. I can tell who was who, where, and when, etcetera." He shrugged.

He took a quick drink. "When Gabrielle became pregnant with Hope, you were there to protect her. The Guardian of the temple was unable to take Gabrielle to Dahok's realm, and even his other minions were unable to tempt her away from you."

"The banshees," Xena nodded, remembering the encounter with those unearthly beings.

"Among others," Entropis nodded. "You protected her and the child until Hope was born," He looked at Hope. "And when your mother named you, it changed everything. You became a creature independent of his will, for the most part, and the only way he could control you was to constantly keep himself in mind," he pointed at Hope's forehead. "He had to subsume your conscience completely so you would do his bidding. Even when you slept, he would continue to whisper in your ear, clouding your mind and darkening your heart."

Entropis looked at Xena. "Your father recognized this, which was surprising in and of itself. Wherever he was from, he had a deeper understanding of things than most."

"You mean you don't know where he was from?" Xena smiled.

"I never had the pleasure of meeting him. What little I do know comes from your sister, and the energy he gave to her." Entropis replied.

"Your father recognized that in order for Dahok's energy to be purged from Hope, it needed to be replaced, not simply expunged, you understand?"

Both women nodded.

"Your father," Entropis looked at Hope. "Knew you needed to be freed from Dahok's grasp in order to grow. You needed to reclaim your name in order to be free so he gave you that freedom by exchanging the energy of Dahok with his own, though it cost him his life."

He looked back at Xena. "You could have accomplished the same thing, had you been prepared to, for your power, like his, is dark in nature," he looked back at Hope. "And that is why David's power so easily joined with you. It was dark, like the power that held you."

"So he made me what I am now, in order to let me be my own person," Hope nodded.

"He gave you your name back," Entropis smiled. "In more ways than one."

He turned and fixed his eyes on Xena. "Now, you, my dear. You're name is powerful as well, but in a different way."

"Oh?"

"It is a variation of a word, like mine and like Atrophis, and as such it protects you from external influence." He smiled. "When something has reached its zenith, the word from which your name derives, it is at its most powerful. For most, a person reaches their zenith at some point in life and then begins to decline, but not you."

He smiled appreciatively. "Your parents were also wise when they first named you, hiding the true word within your name. By that act, they granted you great strength and power in perpetuity. The fact that your parents in this life carried on your name for you only added to your power. You are stronger in this existence than you were in the previous, because you retain your knowledge and experience even as you grow and learn all over again."

He smiled and sipped his wine, his eyes moving back and forth between them, as if studying them.

"This should be most interesting to watch your journey through this life," Entropis mused.

Xena and Hope looked at each other and then back at Entropis who sat there, smiling at them knowingly. The laughter began slowly, as gentle smiles broke like soft waves on the sands. It rose and built in a wave of cleansing joy and Hope felt the last of her guilt falling away. She leaned over, her head coming to rest on Xena's shoulder.

Xena's arm rose and settled around Hopes shoulders. In that simple contact, Hope felt the last of the gulf between them bridged.

The laughter and conversation drifted through the village, mingling with the voices of the children, men and women and further into the trees until lost in the greater sounds of the forest.

END

4


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